


Expiations

by MarmeLady_Orange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Season/Series 09, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel-centric, Comatose Dean, Depression, Disappearance, Grief/Mourning, Heaven is Closed, Hell is Closed, Human Castiel, Human Crowley, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Language, M/M, Magic, Minor Character Death, POV Third Person Limited, Possession, Resurrection, Self-Sacrificing Dean, Self-Sacrificing Sam, Slow Burn, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-09-15 08:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 40,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9227807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: This is an alternate season 9 where Sam closed up Hell, refusing to let Dean interrupt the rituals and save his life. Metatron still has achieved kicking all the angels out of Heaven, leaving a graceless Castiel to wander the Earth. The story picks-up with the grieving hunter and former angel reuniting some time later.Both men, just like the world around them, have been changed forever. Just never as much as Sam Winchester will have changed after HE gets to come back (this is still Supernatural, after all).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dear potential reader! :-D
> 
> Let me say something about this piece before you start reading (or decide to turn away). If you read the summary, then you may know that the story starts out with a deceased Sam Winchester. This is still very much a "Supernatural" story, so you have to know that this is not a permanent state. 
> 
> It hardly ever is. (Until it is and then we’re super pissed about it!!!)
> 
> Which is why I decided not to use the "Major Character Death" tag. There may be secondary character deaths, but again, it’s Supernatural, I would think that it’s expected.
> 
> Not saying nobody will get hurt though… just nobody "important" shall find death (again) in this particular story. And if they do, then it’ll only be temporary!
> 
> I hope that helps you in deciding if you’ll keep on reading or not. As for updating the story, my goal is to publish one chapter per week. Right now I have a little over 30 chapters planned out (they’re not all written, but the story’s pretty much set… there still could be more or less though). 
> 
> So, there you go, I hope that first chapter will be enticing enough for you to wanna read more.
> 
>  
> 
> *crosses fingers*
> 
>  
> 
> P.S.: I tried to put in all the tags I could think off. As I publish, I might have to add some more. If I do, I’ll let you guys no in case they’re a big no-no.
> 
> .

  

 

It was a little over 2:00 AM when the ’67 Chevy Impala’s rumble could be heard as it rolled into the barely lit rest area. The driver honked a few times, leaving the motor running and the beams shining. Having been hiding in the shadows, a shivering Castiel soon emerged from the bushes. He deflated when he saw how far the car stood, worried he’d collapse before being able to reach it.

Limping, he slowly made his way to the passenger door, opening it to let his body fall onto the seat. From the corner of his eyes, Castiel noticed how Dean scrunched up his nose, reminding him that his human body had been emitting a foul odor for some time now. He needed to bathe, sooner rather than later.

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, his voice even throatier than usual. Dean didn’t reply but the tightness of his jaw was enough for Castiel to know he’d been heard. He turned to look out the side window before speaking again. “I’m sorry about Sam. I wish I could have prevented this.”

All that answered the former angel was a noncommittal grunt, but Castiel didn’t look back at his friend. No way Dean could be anywhere ready to talk about this; Sam being dead had always been Dean’s worst nightmare.

“Stop picking at it or it won’t heal,” Dean said in a gruff voice, startling Castiel who’d been absentmindedly scratching the scabs on his hands.

He looked down to see fresh blood oozing from the wounds. “Sorry,” he said again, not that he thought he should be. Not for this.

They drove in silence for about an hour before Dean swerved into a nondescript motel’s parking lot. Even with its flickering “Vacancy” neon sign, it looked like it had been abandoned for years. Dean parked near the office and went in, coming back with a single key after less than five minutes.

The room was smack in the middle of the strip layout, right next to the vending machines. Dean parked the car in front of the door then got out after grabbing his duffel from the back seat. Cas followed him inside the room without a word, closing the door while Dean dropped his bag on the first bed. He rummaged through it before throwing some clothes at Castiel.

“You reek, man. Go take a shower,” he said, also flinging a tube of toothpaste at his chest. “We’ll have to buy you a toothbrush and shit. Just use your finger for now.”

The hunter dropped the bag on the floor and toed off his boots. As he shook off his coat and overshirt, he turned to see Castiel still standing there, looking at him with a concentrated frown.

“Please tell me you know how to wash yourself.”

Flushed, Castiel nodded before turning around to reach the bathroom. Of course, he knew how to wash himself, it didn’t matter that he’d never had to do it before. As he put the borrowed clothes and toothpaste on the counter, his gaze caught on his reflection. He hardly recognized Jimmy – himself – behind the streaks of blood and dirt staining his face.

One by one, he peeled off the clothes he’d found at a laundromat – he had swapped Jimmy’s old suit for something cleaner and warmer. The body hidden underneath didn’t look any better than the clothes. Castiel was covered in bruises, the most prominent one being the diagonal stripe he got from that car accident with Hael. He hissed as he brushed a couple of fingers over the purpled skin on his chest. Pain… that was something he could have lived without experimenting. The human kind of pain, anyway.

It almost took Castiel a whole hour to scrub himself clean and come back into the room. All lights were out, save for the lamp between the two beds. Dean looked already asleep, huddled under the covers and facing away from Castiel’s bed. Unsure of what to do with his dirty clothes, the fallen angel left them in a heap on the armchair next to the minibar.

He ignored the rumble in his belly at the sight, doubting there’d be any food in there anyway. He had a thought for those vending machines outside, his stomach growling again. He intended on brushing his hunger off and get into bed when Dean moved around to grab his wallet from the bedside table. He tossed it at Castiel before turning his back to him again.

“Go get something to eat,” he said as he pulled the covers over his head.

Castiel walked out without a word, the worn out leather wallet in hand. He went to stand in front of the machine, squinting to lessen the harsh brightness. There wasn’t much to choose from; one sold soft drinks while the other mostly held candy bars and chips. Still, his mouth watered at the sight and he soon decided to grab himself the biggest candy bar he could see.

It had been a good ten minutes of Cas trying to make the mechanism accept the paper money when the room door opened. Dean’s slightly panicked features closed off when he saw Castiel still trying to buy something.

“You’ve been gone forever, Cas. What’s taking so long?” he said a little too loud, uncaring about the late hour.

“The machine won’t accept your money, Dean,” Castiel replied, in a much lower volume, trying again to insert the five dollar bill into the slot. He harrumphed when it spit it out once more.

“For fuck’s sake,” Dean mumbled as he joined Cas and snatched the bill from his hand. He fumbled a bit with it, smoothing it as much as possible, before trying to feed it to the machine.

Same result.

Without a word, Dean took back his wallet to grab another five dollar note. After two tries, this one went in and Castiel let out a relieved sigh.

“What do you want?” Dean asked, obviously intended on seeing this thing through.

“This one here, A6…”

“Good choice,” Dean said as he pressed the corresponding keys. A low whir could be heard and a second later, the candy bar was pushed down and the change dropped. “Anything else?”

“No, thank you. This should be enough to calm the hunger.”

Dean nodded and grabbed the change from the drop to hand it to Castiel. “Just keep it. In case you want more later.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not that it’s a surprise, but Dean’s not doing so good…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know… I said I’d be publishing one chapter a week. Except, I published the first on a Friday and, well, I don’t think I like that. So instead, I’ll be publishing every Monday. It was either giving you the second chapter now, or wait until NEXT Monday… I didn’t feel like doing that at all, so here you go.
> 
> It’s on the short side, I know. Although I usually try to have my chapters within the same range, I now know that it’s not always possible. And when I try, it just messes things up. So, the next one, I can say right now that it’ll be much longer (it’s just how it is).
> 
> I hope you’ll like this new chapter. And if you do, I hope to see you next Monday for Chapter 3!! :-D
> 
> Have a marvelous day!
> 
> .

The first room they rented in Montana should have been tacky enough to bring a smile on Dean’s lips, or so Castiel had hoped. As far as he was concerned, Cas thought the room looked lovely. He liked everything, from the refurbished wagon wheel headboards to the colorful geometric motif of the bedspreads, not to mention the paintings of galloping horses hanging on every wall. The only modern touch was the flat screen TV, which not so long ago would have been enough to make Dean somewhat happy.

When Dean dropped his bag on the first bed, Castiel had to admit that whatever the room looked like made no difference to the hunter. As he always did, Dean grabbed his toiletry kit and made a beeline for the bathroom; the hunter had been going through that same ritual since finding him.

He’d come out freshly showered before dropping some cash on Castiel’s bed so he could buy himself some dinner. Dean would then leave, going to the first bar he could find and drink himself silly. He’d be back late with some local girl that would be just as drunk and they’d fuck on the bed next to Cas without a care in the world.

The next morning, the girl would be gone, and Dean and Cas would be getting back on the road. Until they stopped to a new town and the same thing would happen all over again. And frankly, after almost three weeks of this, Castiel had had enough.

Dean came out of the shower thirty minutes later, ready to go find the sleaziest bar in town. Except this time, as he went to drop a twenty dollar bill on Castiel’s bed, the former angel stood in the way.

“How long are we going to be driving around like this?”

“As long as there’s monsters to hunt, Cas,” Dean said, walking around the former angel to go put on his leather jacket without ever looking at him.

“We haven’t taken a single case since—since—don’t you think we should go back to the bunker at some point? I don’t know, recuperate a bit. I know I’d like to stop for a little while. If we’re not going to really be hunting anyway…” He took a deep breath before deciding to try mentioning that other thing Dean hadn’t been willing to talk about. “We may not be hearing much about it, but the angels have fallen, Dean. By my fault, may I remind you. I need to find a way to—”

It was enough for Dean to finally look up at Castiel, his eyes dark as the night outside. “We’re not going back to the bunker!” He fished some more cash from his wallet and crumpled it before throwing it at Castiel who didn’t even try to catch it. “Just buy yourself a bus ticket if you wanna go so bad. Angels can all just go and die for all I care.”

Stunned, Castiel couldn’t find a single thing to answer before the hunter stomped through the door. It was the rumbling of the Impala leaving that shook him out of his daze. He looked down to see Dean’s crumpled money on the floor. He picked it up, smoothing the bills out before folding them and shoving them into the duffel’s side pocket.

Although the idea had been a tempting one, Castiel knew he’d never be able to leave the hunter, no matter how helping his brethren felt important to him. Dean needed him way more, would he be willing to admit it or not. And if he were to be honest, Castiel needed Dean just as much.

◊—◊—◊

Castiel woke up in a start when he heard the door slam shut. As usual, Dean wasn’t being discreet, but there didn’t seem to be anyone with him this time. He kept his eyes closed, listening closely. He heard Dean grunt as he took off his boots and started taking off his clothes. Dean was definitely alone, which came as quite the relief for Castiel.

He kept feigning sleep while Dean staggered around his bed to reach the bathroom. When Dean came back out, Castiel was already half asleep, only to get startled by Dean getting in bed behind him.

“Dean… you’re in my bed,” he murmured, convinced the hunter was just too drunk to realize his mistake.

The hunter didn’t answer as he pressed tight against Castiel’s back, flinging a leg and an arm over the former angel’s body.

Unsure of what he should be doing, Castiel stayed still, praying for his drunken friend to fall asleep sooner rather than later. Seeing how strong Dean smelled of liquor, it shouldn’t be taking too long. What he hadn’t expected was to feel Dean’s hips start rocking against his ass, ever so slightly. The tingle that crawled up Castiel’s spine felt just as wrong as it felt delicious.

“Dean?” he asked, wary. 

All that answered him was some sort of mix between a snore and a grunt, Dean’s breath hot on the back of his neck. He soon stopped moving, resting his crotch snug against Castiel’s bottom.

For a second, Castiel considered getting out of the hunter’s hold to go sleep in the other bed. Except the limbs circling him were strong and, well, he found he didn’t actually hate the warmth surrounding him.

He let the soft snoring in his ear lull him to sleep, unaware of the smile gracing his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non beta'd, and nothing pertaining to the Supernatural universe is mine… but you knew that already! :D
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finding a case and actually wanting to follow up could be a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t know about you, but I’ve been anxiously sitting on my hands, eager that I was to finally publish a new chapter… See, I have a couple (about 8) chapters already written and… well… when it’s written, I feel the need to just let it out, you know?
> 
> But I won’t… because if I start posting more than once a week, then I’ll run out of chapters and then I’ll miss posting days and then you guys will start wondering if that story will ever be done with! And I certainly can’t do this to you, can I?
> 
> So… I’m super happy to be posting this today. And then I’ll be sitting on my hands again for another week! Yay me!
> 
> Okay… I’m not actually sitting on my hands, I keep on writing this story so there won’t ever be any gaps in posting. Because that how much I care about my "readership"… (had to translate this one from French, didn’t know it… I think "readers" might have been a nice choice of word though… still keeping it there, 'cause it’s new to me and I love new words).
> 
> I really hope you’ll like this new chapter. I’ll have to go back into the tags, I don’t remember if I put one for "slow burn"… 'cause yeah, I love that shit, so it’ll be a slow effin' burn, ya know?
> 
> So there you go, I’ll leave you to read now.
> 
>  
> 
> Oh… just wanna let you know… I decided that whenever I name a song, there’s gonna be a link for it on Youtube… if you’re into that sorta thing! :D
> 
>  
> 
> .

Waking up alone the next morning didn’t feel wrong, at least not until Castiel remembered Dean had joined him in bed the previous night. He sat up, scrubbing the sleep out of his eyes, to find the room empty. The second bed looked as if it had been slept in after all.

“Dean?” he called, hoping the hunter had just gone to the bathroom. Receiving no answer, Castiel got up to look out the window. He gulped when he didn’t see the Impala parked outside. At least, Dean’s duffel was still in the room. He grabbed some clothes from his own bag and went to take a shower, coming back into the room not ten minutes later.

He was about to call Dean when he heard the distinct engine outside. A minute later, Dean walked in with a Biggerson’s paper bag and a coffee tray.

“Good, you’re up!” was all he said as he dropped breakfast on the small table. He grabbed a sandwich for himself before pushing the bag toward Castiel.

“I thought you had left,” Castiel said, ignoring the bag to take one of the warm cardboard cups.

Dean shrugged. “Left the car at the bar, had to go get it. I was fucking drunk last night, hardly remember coming back at all,” he said, giving the former angel a pointed look. Castiel had spent enough time cooped up in a car with Dean to know that whatever happened the night before would be blamed on alcohol – and never spoken of again.

“I think I found us a case,” Dean said as he unwrapped his breakfast. “Probably a hunting, not too far out of town. We might have to stay a couple more days.”

“You found a case? Didn’t think you were looking.”

Taking his time to chew and swallow, Dean nodded, making a point of looking at anything but Castiel. “I wasn’t… just kinda stumbled upon it. Heard these two girls talking about some weird shit happening at this place they work at.”

“Weird shit?”

Instead of answering, Dean finished his sandwich in huge bites. He then crumpled the wrapping paper and threw it in the bag before fishing out the second sandwich, handing it to Castiel. “Gotta eat some, Cas. You don’t eat enough.”

“I eat when I’m hungry,” he defended himself before taking another sip of coffee. “And I’m barely ever hungry in the morning, you should know this by now. You just go ahead and eat it.”

Dean huffed and shook his head, unwrapping the second sandwich. “Your loss,” he mumbled before taking a huge bite.

“So… what weird shit were those girls talking about?” Castiel asked again before Dean could take another mouthful.

“You know, the usual crap; lights flickering, cold spots, stuff ending up where it shouldn’t be.”

“Was anyone killed?”

“Not as far as I know. Don’t think we should wait for it to happen though.”

“I agree.”

Both men stopped talking, Castiel nursing his coffee while Dean washed down the second sandwich with his. They didn’t really say a word to one another before Dean announced it was time to go. After a quick chat with the girls, Dean had learned they worked at some sort of arts and crafts store in the outskirts of town, in an old repurposed barn.

“Welcome to Evelin’s Knitting Barn, how may we help you today?” an older woman said when the front door chimed. When she actually looked at who had entered the store, her mouth gaped open at the sight of the two tall men approaching the cash register. Clearly not the shop’s usual clientele.

“Is Rosalyn here? Or Stephanie, maybe?” Dean asked, showing off his fake FBI badge. “Met them earlier and told them I’d be coming by.”

The woman nodded, pointing her thumb at the door behind the counter. “They’re working in the back… can I help you?”

Castiel squinted at Dean when he saw him give the woman a warm smile as he extended his right hand. “Agent Mustaine. This is my partner, Agent Burton. Your friends told me about some weird stuff that’s been happening lately. Did you notice anything?”

“Like what?”

“You know… lights flickering, temperatures dropping… weird stuff.”

“Really? The FBI’s interested in our electrical problems? You gotta know that it’s Evelin’s husband that wired this place up years ago. He was no professional too, so it’s bound to be faulty. Whoever’s gonna wanna buy the place s’gonna have to pay a legit electrician to redo the work or else it is certain to burn down. Surprised it hasn’t already, I tell ya. I’ve been warning Evelin to take care of it all for years now.”

“The store’s for sale? I didn’t see a sign.”

“Not yet, but it’ll certainly be soon enough. Evelin died last month and she didn’t have a will… the family’s all up in arms about it too. Pretty sure they’ll just end up selling… not that it’s making much money anyway.” The woman sighed, shaking her head. “People don’t go out to shop anymore, they buy their stuff from the Internet, you know? Rosie even set up an Etsy thingy for the store and that’s where we make most of our money nowadays. Can you believe that?”

“I see… if you don’t mind, I’d still like to talk to your friends – just to be thorough, you know?”

While Dean charmed the woman into letting him go find the girls in the back store, Castiel started wandering around the store. He stalked the rows, an EMF reader in hand. After spending a little too long looking at the colorful knitted sweaters, he found his way to a wooden staircase that lead to an open mezzanine. He ignored the “Employees Only” sign hanging on the chain blocking the way and climbed over it. He wasn’t even half way up when he felt a cold gust of air on his face.

“What are you doing?” he heard behind him. The woman they’d been talking to stood at the bottom of the stairs, not looking particularly happy. “We don’t let clients upstairs,” she added, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’m not a client,” Castiel said, cocking his head to the side. “I’m an FBI agent.”

“Don’t care… pretty sure you need a warrant to start snooping around. Like I told your partner, whatever Rosie and Steph may think is happening here, it’s all the wiring’s fault.”

When another gust of air tickled the back of his neck, Castiel took out his EMF meter and turned it on. As it had been doing so far, it didn’t light up and stayed quiet.

“What’s that thing?”

Instead of answering, Castiel walked back down, unhooking the chain this time rather than going over it.

“I’m sorry to have wasted your time, miss,” he said as Dean walked out of the back store with two nice looking women. They were all laughing, having the time of their lives.

“Thank you for answering my silly questions, girls,” Dean said with a smile as he shook both of their hands. “And thank you, Mrs. Sarkisian.” He handed a card to the older woman, still with a broad smile on his face. “If you think of anything that could be of interest, just call me and I’ll see what I can do.”

When they sat back in the Impala, Castiel noticed the smile that had adorned Dean’s face the whole last hour had died down; his expression was tight and impassive again.

“What now?” Castiel asked, more disappointed by the outcome of their investigation than he would have thought.

“We go back to the motel… we’re leaving in the morning.”

“I see. And will you be going out tonight? If you are, maybe I could go with—”

Before Castiel could finish his thought, Dean turned the key in the ignition and pushed play on the cassette player. The last of the ex-angel’s words got drowned by Motörhead’s _[Killed By Death](https://youtu.be/6ngDWnP2akE)_  blaring out of the speakers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I tell you this story wasn’t being beta’d? Maybe I did… I can’t remember shit from one day to the next, let alone a WHOLE WEEK!
> 
> So… not beta’d, characters aren’t mine… I’m just grateful I get to tell them what to do from time to time! :-P
> 
>  
> 
> Mostly, thank you so much for reading and please, never hesitate to leave your thoughts about it all, I’d love to read you! See you again next Monday! :-D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more, Castiel wakes up alone in his and Dean’s motel room and Baby’s not in the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although I don’t feel like adding a tag for this (wouldn’t know what to write this at, quite frankly), I still feel like I should at least warn you about Dean in this chapter; he’s being kind of an ass… a douchy ass! Could also be considered somewhat homophobic… if after reading you have an idea of what type of warning I should add, please don’t hesitate to share. 
> 
> Or you might wanna wait until next Monday. There’ll be some "explanation" in next week’s chapter, not to say it’s okay to act the way he is here.
> 
> Anyway, that’s about the only warning I got for you this week. I know there’s not a whole lot of action just yet, but it’s coming soon. I have nice twists and turns planned for you, and that’s a promise.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you again next Monday!! :-D
> 
> .

Waking up alone again the next morning filled Castiel with dread; the bed beside his hadn’t been slept in and he didn’t remember being woken up by Dean’s late stumbling in the room or having a nightmare. The bathroom door was wide open, just like Castiel had left it the night before. He got up and looked out to find the parking lot devoid of the Impala once more.

As he put his clothes on, he looked around the room, hoping to find a note Dean could have left behind. When he didn’t find one, he grabbed his phone to call him. His heart skipped a couple of beats when he got sent to voicemail after about ten rings.

“Hello, Dean. I hope you’re doing okay. Please call me back as soon as you get this.”

And of course, Dean was okay. Right? He probably met some girl and went to her place instead of bringing her to their room, which Cas could appreciate if that were the case. Or maybe he got so drunk that he spent the night in the bar’s parking lot. He wouldn’t have taken the wheel, just like he wouldn’t have decided to leave him behind.

Of course not… his duffel was still next to his bed.

Castiel’s phone rang close to an hour later. He let out a relieved breath when he saw Dean’s name on the screen.

“Dean, finally, where the hell—”

“Is this Agent Mustaine’s partner? Agent Burton?” a woman’s voice interrupted him. It sounded like the lady from the store they visited the day before.

“Yes… yes, this is Agent Burton. Mrs. Sarkisian?”

“Yeah… your partner’s here, seems like he spent the night in my parking lot. He looks pretty banged up too. Found his phone on the ground.”

“Banged up?”

“I called 911, they’re on their way. Just thought you should be notified.”

“Why isn’t he the one calling me? Is he—is he…”

“He’s alive, if that’s what you’re asking… looks like he’s breathing, anyway. Now, do you know why he would have broken into my store to burn my shit?”

Castiel had an idea of what could have happened, but he kept his mouth shut. “I don’t know. I thought we were done here. So my partner’s car is there too?”

“Yeah, it’s here, and your partner’s locked inside, passed out or something… if you don’t want the police to have it towed after they get him out, you better get here quick.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon,” Castiel said before hanging up. He remembered the sticker on the room’s phone with local numbers on it. He called the taxi company as he paced around, getting more nervous by the minute.

Almost half an hour later, he was shoving two twenty dollar bills at the taxi driver and getting out without waiting for change. Dean was sat in the back of an ambulance with his legs hanging out. His right arm was in a sling and a young man in a dark blue uniform was tending to some cuts on his face while an older man stood before them.

“Dean!” Castiel called out as he jogged toward him, glad to find his friend conscious and upright. “What happened?”

“That’s what I was explaining to Sheriff Olsen,” he said with a tight smile, glancing at the burly man facing him. “Was driving by last night when I saw lights moving inside the store, like someone waving a flashlight around. I wanted to make sure everything was okay. Whoever had gotten inside must have seen me. I got attacked by behind, never saw a thing. Woke up on the ground and just had time to crawl back to my car before everything went dark again.”

“Doesn’t matter that you’re FBI, son, you should’ve dialed 911 when you thought trouble was brewin’. Now we have a perp on the loose and we don’t even know what he looks like. You sure you saw nothin’?”

“Nope, sorry! Really wish I had.”

Castiel couldn’t take his eyes off the sling hugging Dean’s shoulder and upper arm. He swallowed with a click before looking up to meet Dean’s eyes. The hunter gave him a discreet nod and a wink.

“Are you ready to go?” the EMT said after applying adhesive stitches over the cut on Dean’s temple. Although the question had been for Dean, it was the Sheriff who nodded as he closed his notepad.

“I’ll be okay, you strapped me real good here,” Dean still answered after a beat, glancing at the white cotton sling. “Not the first time this happens… I’ll be fine, just gotta wait it out.”

“Your collarbone is broken, sir. And you probably have a concussion on top of it. I really think you should have a doctor take a look at you.”

About to intervene in favor of going to the hospital, Castiel didn’t have time to place a single word before Dean got to his feet and landed a soft hand on the EMT’s upper arm. “I know, and I will.” Dean’s lips curled up in a coi smile, making Castiel’s frown deepen. “My partner here will drive us back home and the FBI’s doc will wanna take a look at me. I’d rather have to do that shit just once, you know?”

A little flushed, the EMT nodded and swallowed, his own mouth turning up in a small smile while the Sheriff cleared his throat. “Whatever you think is best. You’ll still have to sign the paperwork saying you refused further treatment, though.”

Dean’s hand slid down the young man’s arm as he spoke in a soft voice. “I’ll sign whatever you need me to… wouldn’t want you to get in trouble now, would we?”

Having heard enough, or so it seemed, the Sheriff tipped his hat at Castiel before walking away while the EMT swallowed and cleared his throat, even more flushed than before. Castiel ignored the pang of his heart when he noticed Dean’s fingers linger over the younger man’s as he gave him back his writing pad and pen.

Castiel waited for them to be about halfway to the motel to start asking questions.

“What the hell, Dean? Why did you go back there?”

“The EMF went nuts in the back store when I checked yesterday. Thought I’d investigate it.”

“Without me?”

“Don’t need the both of us to check a location out, Cas.”

“Tell that to your broken clavicle,” Castiel harrumphed, keeping his eyes forward. “Who really hurt you? Was it a ghost?”

“Yeah… seems like sweet old Evelin hadn’t left the building after all.”

“So we have to go salt and burn her remains?”

“No remains to burn… took care of it all anyway, she was tied to the old spinning wheel in the back.”

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t… not really. Lucky guess, is all.”

When Castiel parked the car back at the motel, he turned off the engine and grabbed Dean’s arm before he could get out. “Dean… promise me you won’t do that again?”

All the softness that had grazed Dean’s demeanor before was nowhere to be seen, with him back to his new cold and distant self. “Do what?”

“Go out and hunt on your own. It’s dangerous Dean, you should know that by now.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I beg to differ,” Castiel spat as he reached across the hunter’s chest to poke at his bad shoulder, making him yelp. “We’re not even talking about an experienced ghost here… the old lady’s only been dead for a month and she got the best of you.”

“She got lucky… I still ganked her, didn’t I?”

Without waiting for the former angel to answer, Dean twisted his body to open the door with his left hand, leaving a frustrated Castiel to sit alone in the car.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions get asked, answers are given, nothing is satisfying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed a change in the story’s summary… if you usually read tags or notes, the change shouldn’t be a surprised for you. But if you don’t (and that means that you probably won’t read this note either), you should know that Sam is not permanently dead. That’s how the story starts, but he’ll be coming back.
> 
> So, thanks to DarkRose_9 for having pointed out that this information should have been in the synopsis rather than just in the tags or notes. And I agree… an absent Sam could deter many from reading… but he’ll be there.
> 
> Just… as I said, he might not be totally himself when he comes back… not at first anyway!
> 
> This being said, this is the chapter I warned you about last week. I’m not proud of Dean in this particular instance. Still, I feel I have to remind you that this story is told pretty much from Castiel’s perspective. So, whatever Dean or anyone else REALLY thinks or feels, Cas won’t know about it. Is Dean being 100% honest in this chapter? Maybe… but maybe not. The answer to this question might come later in this fic, but for now all we’re left with is Castiel’s experiences and perceptions.
> 
> I know this new chapter a bit short, but as I said before (I think), I’m trying not to let it bother me. If I’m done with a scene, then I’m done! :-)
> 
> I hope you’ll like it and will wanna come back and see me next Monday!
> 
> Until then, take care and please, feel free to tell me what you think! I’d love to read you too!
> 
> .

In the wake of Dean’s accident, Castiel insisted that they delayed their departure for the next day. The hunter agreed, already high on the painkillers he had found in the Impala’s pharmacy. He wasn’t sure what type of meds he had taken, only that they were making him delightfully drowsy and compliant.

He took some more the next morning before they left the motel, making him doze off while Castiel drove through Montana toward Wyoming. They had just crossed state lines when Dean’s phone woke him up.

“‘lo,” he mumbled after fumbling with the device for a little too long. “Yeah, s’me,” he said again, with Castiel now somewhat paying attention to him.

“Yeah, s’fine… slept ’nough ’nyway.” Dean cleared his throat and yawned as he listened. “Not yet, on our way there now… no, not hurting much… yeah, had the FBI doc prescribe som’thin’ over the phone… not sure what, my partner got ‘em for me.”

Castiel glanced at Dean, his brows furrowed. Who in the world could he be talking – lying – to? Dean looked back at him, looking weirdly annoyed despite his joyful tone.

“No, I don’t mind… no, I don’t think we will. If we do, I’ll let you know… yeah, my phone grabbed it… what’s your name again? All right, Lee… if I’m ever close by, I’ll hit you up… thanks, you too.”

Silence filled the car again, which Dean countered by starting up the radio. He fiddled with the nob, intended on finding something acceptable to listen to. He stopped on a station playing Soundgarden’s _[Black Hole Sun](https://youtu.be/3mbBbFH9fAg)_  and turned the volume up a bit.

“Who was that on the phone? Who’s Lee?” Castiel glanced at Dean again to find him looking out the side window. He turned the volume down. “Dean? Who just called?”

“Hmm? Oh, that was the EMT guy from yesterday… Lee.”

“You gave him your number?”

With his eyes back on the road, Castiel heard Dean chuckle. “Of course not. Gave the sheriff my card, he must have asked him.”

“What did he want? Should we be going back?”

“Nah, he wanted to know how I was doing, with my shoulder and stuff.”

“But… why? I don’t think it’s customary for—”

“Of course, it’s not. The kid just thought we had a moment or something.”

Castiel almost smiled; he had been waiting for the perfect overture to talk about this and there it finally was. “You did act quite seductive with him yesterday. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that he would think that.”

“I know… didn’t think he’d fall for it and try to contact me though.”

“Then why did you do it? I’ve seen you flirt with countless women, but never… hmm… never like this? Are you sure you wouldn’t want to go back and meet with him?”

Dean’s sudden fit of laughter took Castiel by surprise. Not only because he didn’t know what could have been so funny, but also because he hadn’t heard him laugh for far too long. “What?”

“You don’t think I was really coming onto him, right? I’m not gay, Cas!”

“Didn’t say you were.”

“All I wanted was for everyone to leave me the fuck alone. Did you see the old Sheriff when I started flirting with the kid? He couldn’t have been more in a hurry to leave.”

“What about Lee? Don’t think he was that eager to leave.”

“Yeah… hadn’t expected that. Didn’t think the kid would be into it, otherwise I would have thought of something else.”

And then it was silent again. Until a sign announcing the next town made Dean huff.

“Crowley? I hope you don’t want us to stop here!”

“We’ll have to, we need gas. The name of the town shouldn’t matter.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not staying.”

“Of course not, it’s still too early anyway. Now that you’re awake, maybe you’d like to tell me where we should be going?”

“I don’t care, Cas… just… not Crowley, Wyoming.”

“If you don’t care, then why don’t we go back home? Back to the bunker? It’s not like you’ll be able to hunt for some time anyway.”

“Baby’s my home, and I’m right where I should be. Told you before, if you wanna go back to the bunker, just go!”

“Unless you make me, I won’t be leaving your side, Dean.”

“Why not?”

Feeling the heat creep up his face, Castiel kept his eyes forward, trying to ignore the burn of Dean’s stare on him. He shrugged, trying to appear unbothered. “I have no home, Dean. Not anymore. Heaven’s on lock down and I couldn’t go back anyway; I’m human. Where else should I be going?”

“Look… you could just go and live a human life if that’s what you want. Nobody’s forcing you to follow me around.”

And because he knew that arguing with Dean could mean him being forced on a bus and on his way to Lebanon, Castiel chose not to answer. Instead, he shrugged and kept driving, not in the mood to start explaining why he’d never want to leave Dean anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise phone call may very well be what Castiel needs to finally get what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a little bit of action… ;-) However far I stray from canon, I still try to integrate some truth in the story, all the while righting some wrongs. Not saying everything’s going to be all peachy, but some characters who died may stay alive, and vice versa.
> 
> Still… as I said before, no major character deaths (of nothing permanent, at the very least). 
> 
> I don’t have much more to say about this particular chapter… I can only hope that you will appreciate this new development. 
> 
> .

Dean was in the shower later that day when Castiel’s phone rang, which was something even more surprising than Dean’s own phone ringing; as far as he knew, nobody but Dean had his new number.

“Hello?”

All he heard was some sort of static with scattered words. He couldn’t recognize the voice.

“Hello?” he said again, as if it’d help. And maybe it did.

“Sam? It’s Kevin!” More static. “…bunker… back?”

Oh, right, Dean had given Castiel Sam’s phone. “It’s Castiel. I can’t hear you, Kevin. What about the bunker?”

“…locked in the bunker!” was all Castiel had time to hear before the line went dead.

Despite how panicked the young man had sounded, Castiel couldn’t help feeling excited. Finally, he had a valid excuse to bring back the topic of the bunker. And yeah, Dean could decide that putting Cas on a bus would be the thing to do, but that would take forever. And Kevin could very well be in mortal danger.

“The place is guarded against everything, Cas. He’s not in any mortal danger,” Dean said when Castiel told him about Kevin’s possible fate.

“It may be so, but what about food? Is there food in the bunker? What about water? How long can he really survive if he’s locked in there? And why is he locked in? I think we should go check it out.”

“Told you, Cas, I don’t wanna go back.”

“Dean! How do you not want to go? Did you even think about getting your brother back? I’m not talking about a demon deal here, there are other ways. I’m sure we could try and find—”

“We can’t, all right? Sam’s gone and there’s no way we can bring him back.”

“What makes you say that?”

Dean, who had been pacing around the room, came to a stop in front of Castiel to stare him down. “What do you think, Cas? I didn’t just accept Sammy being gone. Can’t do demons deals anymore, so I called upon Death. He’s the one who told me.”

“Maybe he’s lying.”

“No, he’s not. And he’s had it with us, with this whole planet; he won’t help us ever again. Besides, you should have seen Sam when I told him he’d die if he kept going with the closing of Hell… he actually looked relieved.”

“But… Heaven’s doors are closed, Dean. Angels were cast out and nothing can get in, not even the souls of the departed.”

“What?”

“Honestly, the best scenario right now is that Sam’s soul is in the veil… because if not, it means that he’s in Hell.”

Dean growled as he took another step further into Castiel’s space, making him start walking backward. “And you’re just telling me that now?”

“I—Dean—you—” Castiel couldn’t form words as he kept trying to get away from the hunter. He had no choice to stop when his back hit the wall.

“So my little brother could be stuck in the veil, on his way to becoming some kind of vengeful spirit… or he’s being tortured in Hell. Is that what you’re saying to me?”

Before he could respond, Castiel closed his eyes when he saw Dean’s fist rise up. He bristled at the feeling of the fist flying past him to hit the wall, right next to his head. “Dean…” he said under his breath. All that answered him was a choked gnarl. He opened his eyes to see the hunter having trouble cradling his hand as he tried to compose himself, his eyes shining from unshed tears.

“You win! We’re going back to Lebanon,” Dean said as he pointed his chin at the duffle. “You’re driving.”

Without a word, Castiel nodded and started going around the room to pack their stuff up. Twenty minutes later, they were on the road and on their way back toward Montana.

“We could have waited until tomorrow morning,” Castiel said a couple of hours later after letting out a string of noisy yawns. “I’m not an angel anymore, I’ll have to sleep at some point.”

“My hand doesn’t hurt so bad anymore, I didn’t break anything. I’ll be able to take over.”

“Your shoulder’s still broken, though.”

“So? Doesn’t mean I can’t drive. Wake me up in an hour.”

Without waiting for Castiel’s answer, Dean made himself as comfortable as possible while Cas tried to stifle yet another yawn. He started wishing they had stopped to grab a coffee in the last town. When he spotted a Gas & Sip some time later, he went to fill up, buy coffee and snacks, all the while hoping the hunter wouldn’t keep sleeping. He did.

At least, the caffeine did a marvelous job at keeping Castiel from dozing off for another two hours. He went to park in another Gas & Sip, this one attached to a motel. Dean rose in a start before Castiel could even try shaking him awake.

“Wher’ we?”

“Just outside Glenrock, Wyoming. We can stop if you’d like, there’s a motel right outside.”

“Nah, wanna keep goin’.” He rubbed at his eyes before squinting at the convenience store. “Gettin’ a coffee. Want som’thing?”

“I’ll be getting some sleep myself, and I bought water and snacks earlier, so I’m good. I’ll just have to use the restroom before we get back on the road.”

Dean grabbed the plastic bag on the backseat to look through it before throwing it back where he found it. “Gotta use the restroom too.”

They were back on the road in no time, stopping again about five hours later at North Platte’s Biggerson’s for food and bathroom breaks.

“Nebraska, huh? You made good time,” Castiel said when Dean announced where they were at. “We’ll be in at the bunker in the morning.”

Dean just nodded, his eyes fixated on his phone. Castiel took a sip of his coffee, thinking about grabbing his own phone, if only to pass the time. “Were you able to reach Kevin while I slept?”

“Nope!”

“Maybe we should buy something for him when we leave here. In case he hasn’t eaten for a while.”

“It’ll be all mushy. He can have the snacks we got in the car if he’s that hungry.”

The waitress brought their breakfasts before Castiel could find something else to say, to Dean’s evident relief. They ate quickly, and in silence, before going back to the Impala. No matter how much Castiel insisted to be driving the last leg, Dean sat behind the wheel, leaving the former angel to take the passenger seat. 

And with the both of them awake, Dean made sure the music was loud enough to quell any envy Cas could have to start up a conversation.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being back at the bunker doesn’t make things any easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay… it’s Monday again! 
> 
> I don’t know about you, but I really get excited whenever I get to post a new chapter for this little thing. I know the pace is a slow one, but… that’s kind of what I was going for anyway. I’d imagine that Dean losing his brother would make everything seem pretty heavy… sluggish… you know what I mean? Like trying to "swim" across a pool full of mud.
> 
> Things will pick up soon though… got a couple of surprises in store for you, which I hope you will like. I’m further ahead in the story, as you might imagine, and I have to talk myself out of publishing everything I’ve written so far. It’s not that much anyway I’m only 4 chapters ahead. I’ll have to keep publishing once a week if I don’t want to run out of chapters for you guys (I’d hate for that to happen).
> 
> So… anyway, here’s today’s chapter and I really really hope you’ll like it. Thanks for reading!!! :D
> 
> .

The first and only thing Dean said when they came in to find the prophet in the library was to ask if he’d been right about to die of hunger. In doing so, he threw the knotted plastic bag that still held a couple of granola bars and water bottles on the table.

As sole answer, Kevin tore the bag open to shove a first snack in his mouth, making Castiel’s heart sink. He remembered how not so long ago, he’d been just as desperate and hungry. Unlike Dean, who turned back around to go to his room, Castiel went to sit next to Kevin while the bunker came alive again.

“What happened?” he asked as Kevin grabbed a second granola bar to rip it open.

Bits and pieces flew out of the prophet’s mouth when he answered. “I dunno, man. The whole place went berserk with lights flashing and this super loud alarm. Then it all shut down, the noise, the lights, everything. From then on, it’s been emergency lighting, cold showers, and the little canned food I could find – room temperature canned food. At least, the water was never shut off.”

Still, Kevin took one of the bottles and swallowed its entire content before letting out a huge burp. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then finally looked up at Castiel.

“Where’s Sam?” he asked. The sadness of his tone couldn’t fool the former angel; the kid very well knew what had happened to Sam.

“He didn’t make it… the trials…” Castiel couldn’t say much more than that, still having trouble processing the passing – sacrifice – of their friend.

“And how is Dean doing?”

The question almost brought a smile to Castiel’s lips. A sad smile, but a smile nonetheless. He was able to quell it and instead shrugged. “It’s not like he’s been sharing much of his thoughts,” he said, despondent. “Not that he needs to… his almost constant state of drunkenness should be enough of a clue.”

“He didn’t look drunk just now.”

“Believe me, he’s probably working on it as we speak. He gets awful nightmares too, which might be why he’d rather be drunk.”

Kevin nodded, fiddling with the empty wrappers. “Look, I know you just got back, but… could we get out of here? Do a grocery run, maybe? I gotta see daylight, man.”

◊—◊—◊

Instead of letting Castiel take the Impala to town, Dean insisted to be driving them. Didn’t matter that he had indeed been sipping on some whiskey in his room. They came back to the bunker two hours later, which Kevin had spent outside, offering his face to the sun and letting the guys handle the shopping.

Oddly enough, it was Castiel who made most of the food decisions, Dean manning the cart through the alleys without ever chiming in. Even when Cas insisted they stopped by a bakery for pie, Dean stayed in the car without an apparent care in the world. Unnerved, yet eager to try and please his friend, Cas decided to buy three pies; apple, cherry, and pecan.

The hunter never even blinked when Castiel sat back into the passenger seat with the three dessert boxes.

“You done? Can we go now?” Dean said, already taking the car off park.

“Unless you think we should be getting something else?”

Dean’s response resided in his foot falling heavy on the gas pedal. Once back at the bunker, Dean helped bring the bags in only to run and hide in his room the second they were done. Castiel ended up putting everything away on his own, the prophet having felt the need to spend some more time outside.

He had put everything away and was trying to think about preparing some kind of lunch when Castiel heard Dean walk in behind him.

“Where’s Kevin?” he asked as he grabbed a beer from the now full fridge.

“Outside… I think getting stuck in here really hit him hard.”

Dean huffed as he took a first sip. “Yeah… poor Kevin! Locked down in the safest place on Earth while others chose death to save his sorry ass,” he spat, his mouth in a bitter pout.

“Dean! You’re not being fair, it’s not his fault… it’s nobody’s fault!”

Instead of answering, Dean downed half his beer before opening the fridge to grab a second one. He turned to walk out of the kitchen, stopping in the door frame to speak.

“I should have saved him, Cas. I was there and I fucking let him die! So excuse me if I don’t agree when you say it’s nobody’s fault!”

And with that, the hunter was gone again. His heart heavy, Castiel sat at the kitchen table, the little hunger he’d been feeling having been efficiently squashed down. He had a fleeting thought for the prophet, deciding that the kid was old enough to prepare his own meal if he were to be hungry.

As he got up to leave the kitchen, Castiel realized that, unlike Dean or Kevin, he had no room of his own. Not yet, anyway. Although he should have been able to go and choose one for himself, he decided that he’d rather wait for Dean’s input on the matter. What if the hunter ultimately decided that Cas should just go find somewhere else to live?

Getting gloomier by the second, Castiel headed to the library to find that Kevin had come back inside. He was engrossed in the laptop computer in front of him, a wide grin on his face. He didn’t even look up when Castiel came to sit in front of him.

“The Internet’s back, Cas.”

“That’s good.” 

Castiel worried at his bottom lip, a silly thought having formed in the back of his mind. “Say, Kevin… how willing would you be to help me with something?”

“Depends…” the prophet said, a little suspicious now.

“See, with Heaven sealed shut, it basically means nothing can get in.” He gave Kevin a pointed look, hoping he wouldn’t have to put into words what this could be meaning for them.

“Sam,” Kevin said under his breath, nodding. “Where is he if not in Heaven?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I’d like to find out. Would you help me?”

“Okay, but… how are you gonna do that?”

“It’d be easy if I was still an angel… we’ll need to go the human way instead. Do you know if there’s a ouija board somewhere in the bunker?”

Kevin didn’t know, but it didn’t take them very long to find one in the storage room. It was old and if the Men of Letters kept it in a box covered in sigils, it had to be the real deal. It could also have meant that something bad was attached to it, but Castiel didn’t seem to care. 

Knowing nothing should be able to pass the bunker’s mystical barriers, they went to the nearby woods to do the ritual, spending the better of the day calling to the spirits and watching as the paddle moved around. The sun was right about to set when it became obvious that Sam was nowhere to be found. They had been able to summon many spirits, most of them distressed by their state of nothingness, but Sam himself never responded to their call.

“Does this mean he might have had time to get in before the doors closed?” Kevin asked as they walked back to the bunker, making Castiel sigh.

“I highly doubt it. It is my understanding that the angel were cast out before Sam was even done with the trials.”

“So… what then?”

“I—I believe Sam may have been sucked into Hell once more.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> However hard Dean tries to ignore it, there’s still work to be done in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaah… here it is again… Monday!
> 
> I wish I had more to say about today’s posting. I’m really "stuck" in this slow, contemplative way of storytelling… I say stuck, but I really do like the pace I’ve established. Not to say that nothing is happening, quite the contrary. What I’m hoping is that you guys feel (and like) the sluggish atmosphere I’m trying to convey.
> 
> What I can assure you is that starting next week, things are picking up a bit. Maybe not in speed, but certainly in intensity.
> 
> I hope you’ll like this new chapter!
> 
> See you next Monday!!
> 
> .

“It doesn’t make any sense! You know that, right?”

They had been back in the bunker for a while now, but Kevin didn’t seem to be able to get over Castiel’s belief that Sam could be in Hell. Not after sacrificing himself for the greater good.

“He doesn’t deserve to be down there!”

Castiel certainly agreed, but kept quiet. Nothing could be done at this moment and he hoped Kevin would just stop talking about it. If Dean heard them—

“Who doesn’t deserve to be down where?”

And of course, Dean had decided now was a perfect time to come out of hiding. The hunter came to sit in the library with them, a beer in hand.

“Nobody,” Castiel said before Kevin could answer. “You know… nobody deserves to be in Hell.”

“I wouldn’t go that far… some assholes certainly deserved it, you know?”

“Sam!” Kevin said in a yelp before Castiel could speak again. “Sam’s stuck in hell!” 

While Dean turned to scowl at Castiel, the former angel did the same to Kevin, who shrugged. “What? Don’t you think keeping something like this from him is just asking for trouble?”

Dean’s gaze never left the ex-angel. “What makes you think that?”

“We did a seance and we couldn’t find him,” Kevin said again while Castiel just held Dean’s irate stare, looking like a deer in headlights. “Castiel thinks that means Sam’s in Hell.”

Without another word, Dean nodded, his eyes now on the table. “Kind of expected that,” he said after a while. “So… how do we fix this?”

“Dean—I—Hell is… it’s locked.”

“Then we unlock it,” Dean said in a hiss, glancing up at Castiel whose heart just flipped at how desperate the hunter looked. “We have the demon tablet, there has to be—”

“The tablet said the trials were to close Hell permanently, Dean… as in forever,” Kevin chimed in, his tone getting less assured as Dean’s red hot gaze turned to him. “Hey, I don’t make the rules!”

“There’s no such things as rules.”

Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat. He knew Dean was right, to some extent. Whatever had been written, the Winchesters had a knack for finding ways to do whatever they chose. So if someone could revert Hell being on lockdown… 

Except Castiel believed it’d be a very bad idea – as was sharing his thoughts on the matter with Dean, apparently.

“Dean… would you really want to unleash demons upon Earth again?”

“What, Cas? And leave my brother to rot down there? Let him spend eternity being tortured and do nothing about it? Do you even know me at all?”

“I’m just saying—”

Before Castiel could try and make his point, Dean got up to come and loom over him, using his body as a barrier so he couldn’t get up from where he sat. “Go on, Cas… I dare you to say it!” Dean said, menacing.

“Dean… I…”

“There’s nothing in the tablet to reverse this, Dean. I swear!”

Without moving away from Castiel, Dean looked at Kevin. “Says you!”

“Yeah, says me! I translated the thing last year, in case you don’t remember. I’d know if it had been in there.”

“Fuck!”

The breath Castiel let out when Dean finally pushed himself away from him came out shaky. And he hated himself to have felt obligated to fear his friend… again. “We’ll find a way,” he still said after clearing his throat. All that answered him was the clench of Dean’s jaw.

It took some time for anyone to speak again, the heavy silence of the library punctuated by Kevin’s fingers on his keyboard. “Huh… guys?” he said after a while, “I think there’s something real weird going on.”

While Castiel lifted his gaze so Kevin would continue, Dean’s stayed down as he kept drinking his beer and fiddling with the label.

“There’s a whole lot of folks that got their eyes burned out lately. And all around the world too.”

“Sounds a lot like angels,” Castiel said, to which Kevin nodded. “What else does it say?”

“Nothing much, really. Nobody seems to be able to say what’s happening. Some newspapers have started talking about ritual killings.”

“They’re not that wrong… although I do wonder what could really be behind the angels killing people.”

“Since when do they need a reason?” Dean spat, startling both men. They turned to him, but he still had his eyes cast down. “Angels are dicks, and we’re just bugs to squash for them.”

“Untrue,” Castiel dared to say. “Humans are to be loved above all else; God commanded it.”

“Yeah, right! Because they’ve been so nice to us before, haven’t they?”

It took the forceful slam of Kevin’s palm on the table to make Dean and Castiel shut up and turn to him. “I’m sorry to intrude guys, but I really think that if we can find angels to help, then we might have a chance to get Sam out of Hell.” He huffed when they both squinted at him. “I wouldn’t be surprised if angels were able to go downstairs. You never said anything about souls not being able to go to Hell… just Heaven,” he added for Castiel’s benefit.

“I haven’t said it because I didn’t think I had to,” Castiel defended himself. “If Sam’s in Hell, it’s because he closed the door, not because he deserved it.”

“So the veil is just packed with both good and bad people’s spirits?” Dean said.

“I guess…”

“How come we haven’t had more hauntings, then?”

“We haven’t been hunting, Dean. And when we did, it was a haunting during which you got your ass kicked!”

Dean glanced at the sling on his arm and huffed. “Told you, the old broad got lucky.”

“Or something else is going on, Dean. She was far too powerful for someone who had only been dead a month.”

Once more, silence fell on the table.

“So… angels?” Kevin said, cutting through yet another long silence. “You guys gonna do something about it?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, man. It’s your job, not mine. I’m only relaying the information.”

“He’s right, Dean. We should go at least take a look,” Castiel said, hopeful.

“Why the hell would you wanna do that? Are you forgetting there’s a price on your head?”

“Of course not, but what am I to do, Dean? Hide here for the rest of my life? I need to help them, even if they would prefer that I don’t. Mostly, this could be the only way to help Sam.”

Slamming the empty beer bottle on the table, Dean rose to his feet. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? The only thing you’ll do is get killed if you try and run after angels.”

“Because you think they won’t kill you if you do?” Castiel had time to say as the hunter trampled out of the library. Dean never stopped nor responded.

“He’s right, you know,” Kevin said after a beat, resuming his typing on the keyboard.

“You’re the one who brought up the case in the first place, Kevin. You very well knew what you were doing.”

Kevin shrugged. “I did.” He looked up at Castiel, an unexpected warmth in his eyes. “Angels might be the only way to help Sam. And I’m pretty sure neither you nor Dean care about how dangerous it might get. You’re both willing to die for the guy.”

Castiel felt a pinch in his heart at the prophet’s words; he would indeed give up his own life if it meant that it could bring back Sam Winchester.

“Try and get as much info as you can, Kevin,” he said, a tight smile on his lips as he got up to follow where the hunter had gone. “Dean and I need to go hunt ourselves an angel.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel’s only hope lies with Dean wanting to listen to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should explain something that I’ve written in that particular chapter. Many interesting things happened in the seasons following #8… One of those I really loved was Sam hugging Castiel and telling him that he should be hugging back. That was such a precious moment in Sam and Castiel’s relationship. (I’m not a Sastiel shipper, but they do have a close relationship. It’s canon, they’re family…).
> 
> All of this to say, I knowingly used that "sastiel" hug in a destiel setting. But don’t worry, quality time between Cas and Sam are to come, I just couldn’t help myself.
> 
> You should notice things like that throughout this fic… stuff that happened on the show that may happen again, either as it happened or in a slightly different manner, with different people. I’m just having fun, you know?
> 
> I hope you guys will like this new chapter! See you again next Monday!!

Once bursting with confidence while talking to Kevin, a depleted Castiel now stood outside Dean’s door. The hunter’s mood had been everything but agreeable as of late. If Castiel often felt Dean to be somewhat patient with him, that sentiment had disappeared around the first week of them finding each other.

Eyes closed, he leaned an ear flat on the wood of the door, hoping he’d have an excuse to walk away when no noise would be heard. Except he did hear noises; a faint musical hum as well as the clank of glass against glass. Dean probably had his headphones on, much too loud, and had found himself something other than beer to drink.

Taking a deep breath, Castiel rapped his knuckles against the door. He half expected Dean not to hear him, or even ignore him.

“Yeah?” the hunter said in a raspy voice.

“Dean? Can I come in? I’d like to talk to you.”

It took long enough for Dean to answer for Castiel to believe he’d be asked to go away. Dean surprised him once more with a positive answer. As he opened the door, he saw Dean half sprawled on his bed, putting his phone and earplugs on the side table.

Not sure to what extent he’d been welcomed in the room, Castiel stayed in the doorway. His mind had gone blank and he had trouble remembering whatever had brought him there.

Dean let out an impatient huff, waving at the door. “You comin’ in or what?”

“Yes, sorry,” Castiel said in a start, taking a few steps inside the room and shutting the door. He sidestepped to sit on the green loveseat facing the bed, wanting to be at eye-level with the hunter. 

“Want some?” Dean said as he poured more whisky in the glass he had just emptied. He held the glass up for Castiel, but the ex-angel shook his head, making the hunter shrug and take the glass for himself. He took a long pull before speaking again. “What can I do you for?”

“I think we should go and investigate those angel deaths.” Castiel swallowed, unnerved by Dean’s impassive expression. He found the courage to keep on going in the fact that his friend seemed to actually be listening to him. “I know you hate them. Helping them is the last thing you’d want to do, and I can’t blame you for that… still, I believe they’re our only chance of saving Sam.”

“You know you’re pretty much first on their kill list, right?”

“So what if I am? I deserve it… whereas Sam doesn’t deserve to be stuck in hell. Not after all he’s done for this world.”

Castiel swallowed again when he noticed Dean’s jaw clench. Weirdly enough, Dean didn’t sound as pissed as he looked when he spoke again.

“He certainly doesn’t. So what… you want us to go find an angel and ask them to pull my brother from perdition?” Castiel winced at Dean’s obvious mockery of the way he introduced himself all those years ago. “Why would they even do it?”

“If we can send the angels back to Heaven, they might be willing to help us.”

“Sam’s been down there so long already, Cas… the longer he stays—”

Castiel didn’t feel the need to finish Dean’s hanging sentence – they both knew what happened down there without needing to voice it.

“Let’s leave early morning, then,” Dean said after some time, his eyes on the amber liquid on his lap. He looked up when he heard Castiel get back to his feet.

“Very well… I’ll let Kevin know.”

Before Castiel could even take a first step toward the door, Dean got up from the bed to come and grab his wrist. “Cas… huh… could you stay a bit longer?” Although suspicious, Castiel didn’t feel like he could refuse. He was about to sit back down on the sofa, but Dean gave his arm a soft tug. “Sit next to me?”

Castiel must have taken too long to answer, or comply. His heart skipped a beat when Dean’s features hardened and he let his wrist go. “Forget it,” he said before going back to sit on his bed and down the last of his whisky. When he went for the bottle again, it was Castiel’s turn to come closer and stop him with a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I don’t mind staying, I promise. I was just surprised,” he said as he sat next to the hunter, his body a barrier between him and the bottle. “Something you wish to talk about?”

Dean took his arm back and went around the ex-angel to grab the whiskey. He filled his glass again, keeping his eyes on Castiel as if daring the ex-angel to stop him.

“Nah… just… I guess I got used to you being there when I go to sleep, is all. D’you mind staying a bit? Just until I fall asleep?”

Trying to ignore how Dean was hardly ever there when he himself went to sleep, Castiel nodded, making sure to keep his feet on the ground – both literally and figuratively.

“Man, you’d think that losing your mojo would have made you less stiff. You can actually sit on the bed, take a load off,” Dean said with a humorless chuckle. He had started slurring his words, a testament to how drunk he’d already gotten. Castiel started to fear that the agreement to hunt angels would be forgotten about the next morning.

“How drunk are you?” he asked, making Dean chuckle some more.

“Pretty drunk, but not drunk enough to not know what I’m doing,” he said, poking at Castiel’s leg with his good arm. “Come on, take your shoes off, relax.”

Wary, Castiel obeyed, toeing off his shoes and bringing both legs on the bed. He leaned his back on the headboard, mirroring Dean’s position. 

“See? Much better, yeah?”

“It is,” Castiel said, only half truthful. This new position may have been comfortable, he still felt like Dean’s docility didn’t make much sense. Not after the way he stormed off earlier. “Dean—”

A calloused finger landed on his lips, effectively shutting him up. “Cas, just keep quiet, would you?” 

Then Dean reached over to wrap Castiel in an awkward half hug. “Is this okay?” he said, the puffs of warm air on Castiel’s ear making him shiver. A lump in his throat, Castiel nodded and hummed, not trusting himself to be able to form words at that moment. “You can hug back… if you want, I mean.”

“Of course,” Castiel said in a rasp, wrapping both arms around the hunter’s back, careful not to squeeze him too hard, pushing down the bizarre urge to just… crush him.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I’ve been an ass to you, and you didn’t deserve that.”

“Dean—”

“Lemme say my piece, all right?”

Castiel nodded again, nesting his face a little more in the crook of Dean’s neck. He let out a shaky breath when his lips accidently caught on Dean’s warm skin.

“So, yeah… I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve the crap I’ve put you through. But it won’t happen again, ‘kay?”

Castiel pushed himself back, intended on looking Dean in the eye as he spoke. “Dean, you didn’t have to come and get me, yet you did. Even after everything I’ve done.” He sighed. “I can’t be anything but grateful to you. With everything that’s happened… Sam…”

Dean evaded Castiel’s gaze, his features closing off again. He shook his head and lied all the way down, extending his good arm across the bed. Castiel, who for once took the hint, followed him down to rest his head on Dean’s bicep.

“You’re gonna fall off the bed,” the hunter said, moving his arm so Castiel’s head would instead rest against his shoulder, prompting him to move his body closer. “Good night, Cas,” was all Dean said as he turned off the lamp.

“Good night, Dean,” Castiel answered in a sigh, moving some more until his ear rested against Dean’s heart.

◊—◊—◊

When Castiel woke up the next morning, he had a smile on his face. He felt warm and the mattress in his back was the most comfortable thing he’d ever lied on. Although it felt like something was missing, he chose to take a minute to himself and ignore the feeling. Until his brain started putting the pieces back together.

“Dean?” he said as his eyes fluttered open. The room was just as dark as before, the clock indicating it was well past nine. He felt around to find the lamp and turn it on, the light confirming what he’d already known; he was alone. With a yawn, Castiel threw his legs to the side to put his shoes back on. Dean should have woken him up; they were supposed to have left already.

After stopping by the bathroom, Castiel went to the kitchen. Kevin was on his computer again, eating peanut butter toasts and drinking coffee.

“Good morning, Kevin. Is Dean in the library?”

“Dunno,” the teen answered, keeping his eyes on the laptop. “Thought he was still sleeping.”

“He’s not. And he’s not in the bathroom either. We’re supposed to leave this morning.”

“Did you check the garage?”

Without another word, Castiel turned around and left the kitchen. Before he even reached the garage door, an ominous chill ran along his spine. His breathing hitched when he opened the door and peered inside; the Impala was gone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Dean on the run, Castiel makes it his mission to go find him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Monday, another chapter… and as always, I’m wondering if I shouldn’t be picking up the pace a bit. Not as far as how the story develops, but more like… publishing 2 chapters a week. I get antsy mid-week because I have "nothing" to publish. Which is a complete lie, I have about four chapters on you guys.
> 
> But then… what if I hit a snag and can’t write for a while? It’s happened before, you know. The way I’m doing this now, I’d have about a month to get over it before I have nothing else to show you.
> 
> I’ll keep thinking about it all. In the meantime, I hope you’ll like this chapter.
> 
> The things to come, I tell you… I’m really excited for this story, I really am. Is that wrong??? (it probably is… I can live with that though)
> 
> See you next week, if not before! :D
> 
> .

“What if it rains? Or snows?”

Sitting on the black motorcycle he’d found in the bunker’s garage, Castiel squinted at Kevin.

“Rain isn’t so bad, but snow could indeed be a problem. I would have to stop, I guess.”

“Might explaining how that’s efficient?”

With a dejected sigh, the former angel swung his leg off the bike. The prophet was right; choosing a motorcycle to go find Dean would be highly impractical. “Which vehicle do you suggest I take instead?”

“Any of the cars, I guess. This black one, maybe? Less conspicuous than the red or green ones.”

Castiel nodded, making his way to the closest of the two black cars sitting in the garage.

“You think it works?”

Kevin leaned on the mint green car and shrugged, tossing a set of keys at him. “Try it.”

Castiel caught the keychain with B4 tag etched onto it, same as the stall number. He opened the door, wincing at the loud noise the hinges let out, and sat behind the wheel.

“The Impala looks nothing like this,” he said after a beat, confused by the minimal dashboard. “How do you start it?”

“Beats me. Maybe you’d be better with the green one after all,” Kevin said, patting its side. “Looks easier to drive.”

Kevin had been right, that car didn’t seem as scary as the first one. Castiel’s satisfaction only lasted a second, dissipating when turning the key amounted to nothing at all. “I believe they no longer work.”

“Must have been here for a long time. What are you gonna do?”

Starting to get frustrated, Castiel got out of the car and slammed the door shut. “I’ll walk until I find a car to borrow.”

“Borrow?”

“You know what I mean.”

Without another word, Castiel grabbed his bag, swinging it over his shoulder as he walked out of the garage to reach the front door. “You’ll be okay on your own?”

“Of course. Just make sure to check in, all right?”

“I will. And thanks for that GPS tracking app you showed me, it should be very useful.”

◊—◊—◊

It took almost two days for Castiel to catch up to Dean, finding the Impala in a shady bar’s parking lot three states over. It was quite late already – almost closing time – so it didn’t come as a surprise to find the hunter to be pretty drunk, hunched over the bar as he tried to seduce the waitress. If her pinched expression was anything to go by, the woman wasn’t appreciating the attention so much.

“Dean!” Castiel said as he sat next to his friend, startling him. The lazy smile that had been adorning the hunter’s face turned bright when he recognized his friend.

“Cas! Buddy!” he hollered as he grabbed the man in his arms. He then pushed him away, not smiling anymore. “Hey! What the hell are you doin’ here? I didn’t bring you.”

“I came looking for you… we were supposed to investigate the angels,” Castiel said into the hunter’s ear. Dean pushed him away again.

“Damn, you’re really dumb, aren’t you? Thought you’d have gotten it by now.”

Dean turned away from Castiel and snapped his fingers at the waitress to signal he wanted two more of the same stuff he’d been drinking. 

She rolled her eyes and came to take Dean’s empty glass. “Told you I wasn’t giving you anymore, buddy. Don’t make me call the bouncer on your ass.”

“No, no, no, sweetheart… s’not for me, I swear… s’for my buddy! Right, buddy?” Dean said with a strong clap on Castiel’s back. “He’s real thirsty, you see.”

“No, I’m not,” Castiel replied as he got to his feet, taking the wallet from his coat’s inside pocket. “How much does he owe you?”

“His tab’s clear. Just do me a solid and get him out of my bar.”

To Castiel’s relief, he didn’t have to work that hard to pull Dean outside. The hunter let himself be led to a humongous powder blue Lincoln parked next to the Impala.

“What the fuck’s that thing?” Dean said as he was pushed in the passenger seat. 

Castiel didn’t answer and walked around to sit behind the wheel. He started the engine, then turned to Dean. “Did you rent a room somewhere?”

“Nah, been sleepin’ in the car.”

Shaking his head, Castiel pressed the gas pedal before Dean could think of opening the door and get out. It didn’t take long to find a motel, the hunter already snoring and drooling on the side window. As he helped him get to the room, Castiel found himself once more missing being an angel; if he still had been, he could have hauled his friend over his shoulder and drop him on the bed without breaking a sweat. He could even have cured him of his drunkenness. 

So many things he could have done…

Like, go find Sam in Hell. Again.

When Castiel woke up the next morning, it was to an unexpected weight pressing him into the mattress. He knew it had to be Dean’s body sprawled over him, but Castiel distincty remembered helping him to the first bed before taking the second one for himself. Which meant that at some time during the night, Dean had come to join him.

Castiel felt a now familiar pull in his lower abdomen. That was another thing he had had to get used to; the inherent need for his penis to be stimulated, especially in the mornings. He’d been familiar with the phenomenon, but he’d never once experienced it when he still had his grace.

_ That’s not true, _ he berated himself. He’d felt his vessel’s neither regions stir at inopportune moments, but it hadn’t been often and it had been easy to will away. Now fully human, if Castiel wanted to go about his day in a timely fashion, he knew the best way was to just… indulge.

Prudent, Castiel rolled out of bed, trying his best not to wake Dean up. He picked up his duffel and locked himself in the bathroom. He took his time, letting the surprisingly strong water pressure massage the knots from his shoulders while his hand found its way down to his shaft, biting his fist when pleasure exploded all over the shower curtain.

When he walked out of the bathroom, clouded in mist, Castiel’s satisfied smile died down at the sight of the room being empty once more. Only for a scary long minute, though. Before Castiel could really start panicking, the hunter was coming back in, holding two coffees.

“You’re an idiot,” the hunter said as he handed Castiel one of the cardboard cups. “It’s like you don’t care that you’ve got a target on your back.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Dean huffed and sat on the bed. “Where’s my car?”

“Back at the bar.”

“Right… could have driven Baby back here, you know. Taxis are expensive, Cas.”

“Guess you don’t remember, but I have my own car, Dean. And with Baby so close, it would have made it too easy for you to just flee again.”

“M’not fleeing.”

“Then what are you doing, Dean? Why did you leave without me? Don’t tell me you believe you can take on the angels all by yourself?”

Dean slammed his coffee on the bedside table hard enough for some of the liquid to slosh out of the cup. “Of course not. And you can’t either, Cas. Even together, we can’t take them out. There’s nothing we can do… how do you not get that?”

Castiel took a step forward, intended on making sure Dean understood he wouldn’t be winning this one. “This is not you, Dean! You’re not one to give up that easily!”

Dean huffed, his eyes on Castiel just as determined. “That’s where you’re wrong.” He got up and walked to the door, leaving his unfinished coffee behind. “Gonna get my car and leave. Just go back to the bunker and lay low for a while; stay safe.”

“Dean—”

“I said go, Cas! Just, leave me the fuck alone, all right?” He opened the door, not looking at Castiel anymore. “If I find that you followed me, I’ll shoot ya, Cas. I’m not even kidding,” he said in a trembling voice before shutting the door on himself.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doesn’t matter how menacing Dean tries to be, Castiel isn’t letting go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monday… finally!!! I’ve been quite busy this last week, to a point where I’m now in 6 chapters more advanced in the story, rather than 4… And I REALLY want to publish more than once a week. Which means there should be another chapter up this next Thursday.
> 
> There’s still this little voice in the back of my mind saying I’m biting off more than I can chew… maybe!! I still wanna challenge myself into doing this, because I’m real excited about the story. Plus, I’ve signed up for yet another Big Bang and I’d love to be able to concentrate on writing that soon! lol
> 
> Right now, about half of this story is written, and the rest is all planned out. I shouldn’t have to miss a posting up until it’s done.
> 
> I really hope you’ll like this chapter. So many exciting things are coming, guys… I promise, you won’t regret it! :D 
> 
> (or maybe you will… I’m not the boss of you… I’m just super hopeful you won’t)
> 
>  
> 
> See you Thursday! (dang, it feels good to say this!)
> 
> .

As he followed the Impala out of Kentucky toward Tennessee, Castiel didn’t even try to go unnoticed. It became clear that Dean had spotted him anyway when he started making some erratic moves to try and lose him.

They had just crossed the state border when Dean swerved into a gas station to fill up. Although worried Dean would decide to go through with his warning, Castiel followed and parked at the second pump. He took the nozzle, glancing at the hunter who had his eyes in the other direction, ignoring him.

He was about to say something when Dean put his nuzzle back and made his way inside the cabin to pay, never once looking at Castiel. The former angel’s tank wasn’t full yet, but he decided he’d rather not wait and followed the hunter inside. He stood in line right behind him, the tension clinging to them like an invisible fog.

It took way too long for the clerk to ring him in, making Castiel increasingly frustrated. His irritation subsided a bit when he found Dean still parked outside, like he’d been waiting for him.

“Last warning, Castiel; go back to Lebanon!” the hunter spat, making his tires screech as he drove away.

Undeterred, Castiel got in his own car and followed him. It didn’t matter that Dean knew Cas wasn’t far behind, the former angel made sure to stay at a respectable distance this time, hoping that not crowding him would help make things better.

They drove for a long time. Castiel had lost sight of the Impala somewhere in Georgia, but found him again thanks to the GPS application, the dot idle at a gas station. Dean had already left, his position putting him somewhere almost a mile ahead of Castiel who decided to stop and fill up too.

The ex-angel was soon back on the road, trailing the dot on his phone, until it vanished. Kevin had told him this could happen. Cursing, he pressed the gas pedal harder, knowing the hunter shouldn’t be too far ahead. He let out a relieved breath when he saw the Impala turn left at an intersection.

From there, he didn’t let much distance between the cars, Dean trying more than once to lose him. He actually managed to do it, yet Castiel found him again; didn’t matter that it had been by accident. Or maybe Castiel knew Dean a little more than he’d realized.

He’d been driving around for some time, worried he’d lost Dean for good, when he saw the Impala sitting in the parking lot of another bar. This one looked a little bit better than his usual hangouts, probably due to the fact that they also served food. He stopped too, debating if he should stay in the car or go find the hunter inside. It was the growling in his stomach that made the decision for him.

Castiel walked by the car, if only to make sure that Dean had indeed gone inside, then made his way through the door. The place was dark, crowded; it had to be the town’s preferred Saturday night hangout. He did a first tour of the floor, making a quick stop by the restrooms, without ever seeing the hunter.

As he started making his way back to the front door, his heart sank and he picked up the pace. Dean couldn’t have left without the Impala, could he? Getting back outside gave him the answer; the car had disappeared once more. Realizing he’d been duped, Castiel ran back to his car, only to find all four tires slashed.

“What did you do?” Kevin asked when Castiel called to explain what had happened.

“What do you think? I had to borrow a new car.”

“Cas, if you’re gonna steal stuff, then you should be able to say it.”

“I don’t think that’s what matters right now, Kevin. Can you find Dean or not?”

“Told you before; if you don’t see him on your app, it means he’s disabled the GPS on his phone. There’s no way of knowing where he’s going.”

Castiel bristled at the words. He kept his eyes on the road, determined to find the black car in the distance. “He can’t be that far. And it’s pretty late too, he’s bound to stop for the night. He hasn’t stopped for—”

“You don’t even know where he’s heading. You guys could be driving in opposite directions right now.”

Knowing Kevin to be right, Castiel kept driving toward the coast. He couldn’t explain why, but he felt Dean had been heading to Savannah, Georgia; the most recent reports of people getting their eyes burned had come from there.

“I’ll stop and sleep for a couple of hours, then I’m driving to Savannah… if Dean’s not there, then I’ll come back to the bunker.”

“You’ll investigate while in town?”

“Might as well. I have my suit and badge, I should be able to convincingly impersonate an FBI agent.”

◊—◊—◊

The disappointment Castiel felt when he met with the Savannah police soon mutated into a deep seated fear. The news article had been old enough that three more deaths had occurred since then. Serial murders, the authorities had been calling the crimes.

Not that they were entirely wrong, but Castiel knew better than to qualify this as the work of a serial killer. And even if it was, the killer wouldn’t be human. The burnt eyes were all the former angel needed; he knew his own brethren was to blame for those deaths. He just had no way of knowing who was doing it, nor why.

Contrary to Castiel’s initial belief, the precinct hadn’t been visited by another agent. Which meant Dean hadn’t come to these parts after all. Hopeful that Dean had just been delayed on his way to town, Castiel rented a room to wait for his friend. He chose the cheapest motel he could find in the hopes the hunter would have the same idea.

It took him two whole days to accept the truth; Dean hadn’t been on his way to Savannah after all. I didn’t matter that Castiel needed to find him again, he knew he had nothing to work with and started driving back to Lebanon. It took him four days to reach the bunker, stopping in two more cities on the way to investigate both the murders and the possibility of Dean passing through.

If driving to Jonesboro, Arkansas ended up being a total waste of his time, Castiel thought he’d hit the jackpot in Ardmore, Oklahoma. Not when it came to angels, but Dean’s whereabouts. Not only did the sheriff confirm he’d been visited by another FBI agent, he even gave Castiel the number he’d been given.

It wasn’t Dean’s usual number, but he hadn’t been answering his phone since losing Cas anyway; he could have gotten a new phone. To make sure Dean would answer, the ex-angel called from the precinct. The elation he felt when the ringing stopped didn’t last long.

“Agent Cummings,” he heard.

His heart tightened in his chest; the voice wasn’t even close to being Dean’s. Not even curious as to who had been investigating – would it be a hunter or the real FBI – Castiel hung up without a single word.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News of Dean come from the most unexpected of places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t have much to say, except that I’m glad to be doing this twice a week now. I almost changed my mind again, seeing I learned of my father’s passing Tuesday… which means I got a whole lot of stuff to tend to and didn’t think I’d be able to publish today. It did take my mid off of things a little to prepare this, so it’s okay.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this new chapter. And I should see you again for the next one on Monday.
> 
> .

Getting back to the bunker in the middle of the night should have meant that Castiel would have been able to go to sleep without having to talk to anyone. Instead, he was confronted with the prophet, awake and sitting in the library with his eyes glued to the angel tablet.

“What are you doing?”

And, okay, maybe Castiel could have sounded a little less aggravated, seeing how it made Kevin jump in his skin. He glanced up at Castiel, looking frazzled and exhausted.

“Trying to find out if there’s anything in there that could be helpful. You know, to send the angels back where they belong?” He waved a hand at the stone and sighed. “I’m having trouble translating it… it’s like it wasn’t meant for me to read. Not as easy as the demon tablet, I mean.”

“It’s quite late, Kevin. Maybe you should go to bed.” Castiel adjusted the strap of his duffel over his shoulder, yawning. “That’s what I’m doing…”

“I just gotta look something up, and then I’ll go.”

Castiel nodded and turned away, more than ready to get to bed. Before he could leave, Kevin spoke again. “What are you gonna do about Dean?”

“I don’t know, Kevin. Can we talk about this in the morning?”

Without waiting for a response, Castiel made his way toward the bedrooms. He still hadn’t been assigned one, but he was too tired to care. He ignored the first door – Sam’s room – and stalked down the hall. A little further was Dean’s room. Again, Castiel walked past, nowhere near believing he’d be welcome to use it. Didn’t matter that Dean asked him to sleep in his bed that last time. Or that he joined him at the motel.

Didn’t matter in the slightest…

Kevin had claimed the bedroom the furthest down the hall, which meant the rest was free to use. Castiel decided on the room next to Dean’s. He opened the door to find that it was pretty bare; it had a bed, and dresser, and even a lamp, but no bedding. 

Too exhausted to start looking for pillows, sheets, or blankets, Castiel dropped the duffle on the floor and toed off his boots before letting himself fall face first onto the naked mattress. Dust rose from the bed. After what felt like the hundredth sneeze, Castiel got back up and almost broke his toe when he kicked the bed in retaliation. 

“Damn it!” he let out, his voice this with frustration, ignoring his bag and boots to leave the room. He barely hesitated before entering Dean’s own, promising himself that he’d clean the other one the next day. Right now, he just needed to sleep.

◊—◊—◊

For the next four days, while Kevin tried translating the tablet – and got head-splitting migraines for his trouble – Castiel spent his time reading whatever the Men of Letters had accumulated about angels. It hadn’t been a surprise to find that they didn’t know much of anything.

Unsurprisingly, Castiel knew a lot more than the Men of Letters ever did. There wasn’t even a single word about angel magic, which Castiel had great knowledge of. He just didn’t know of any spell that could negate the effects of the one Metatron cast. And if such a thing existed, there was a chance only Metatron would know about it.

Castiel felt the anger bubble up in his gut. He should just summon the bastard, trap him in a ring of holy fire and torture him until he gave Heaven back to the angels. He groaned when he remembered the little holy oil they had left had been stored in the Impala’s trunk. And he couldn’t even fly to Jerusalem to procure some more.

“Cas! Careful!”

Castiel flinched and looked down to notice the page he’d been crumpling up in his fist. He let it go, trying to smooth it back in shape.

“Sorry…” He closed the book and leaned back on his chair with a sigh. “How are you doing with the tablet?”

“Poorly… are you sure there can’t be more than one prophet awake at a time? Maybe another one’s meant to read this one.”

“It’s never been done, so no.”

Kevin nodded, his now too long and unkempt hair falling in front of his eyes. He brushed them away from his forehead in a motion that was so reminiscent of Sam that it made Castiel’s heart ache. He grabbed another book, if only to give his mind a reason not to dwell on the memory.

“Why don’t we do a locating spell?” Kevin said. Castiel looked up at him, eyes squinted. “To find Dean, I mean. You have to know a spell for that, don’t you?”

“It’s not as easy as you seem to think. I do know some spells, but Dean is warded against anything angelic. It’s on his ribs, I’ve etched it myself.”

“There’s other kinds of magic, Cas.”

“Dark magic, you mean?”

“Dark, light, polka dot… who cares? As long as it works, right?”

“Magic comes at a price, Kevin. You should know that by now.”

The prophet shrugged, his expression impassive. “Everything comes at a price, man. I thought Dean was your friend.”

“Of course he’s my friend!” Castiel said, appalled. “I did tell you he threatened to shoot me, right?”

“So?”

Castiel’s phone started ringing before he could say another word. The hope he felt at the thought of Dean finally contacting him evaporated at the sight of the name on the screen; Jody. It had to be that sheriff the brothers had been telling him about.

“Hello?”

“Sam?”

Castiel swallowed the lump in his throat. It was a definite possibility that Dean would have omitted to tell people about Sam’s demise.

“No… this—this is Castiel. I’m sorry… Sam is—”

“Castiel? The angel, right? Where’s Sam, can I talk to him? This is Sheriff Mills, I’m a friend of his.”

“Yes, Sheriff, I’ve heard of you. But… I’m sorry, Sam passed away some time ago. I thought Dean would have told you.”

Castiel heard a sharp intake of breath. It took a full, tense minute for the sheriff to speak again.

“How? Does it have to do with the meteor shower?”

“The meteor shower was in fact the angels falling to Earth. But it has nothing to do with Sam dying. You see, what happened was—”

“I’m sorry, I’d love to know what happened, believe me. I just need to check something first… is Dean with you? Can I speak to him?”

“No. He’s—he’s been hunting on his own.”

“Right. Has he been in contact at all?”

“Not for a little over a week now. Why?”

Jody sighed in the phone, making Castiel’s heart drop. “What’s going on?”

“An alert for a comatose John Doe in Tennessee popped through the system. There’s a picture… a bad one, but still… if you say you haven’t heard from him…”

“What are you saying?”

“How soon can you get to Nashville? Pretty sure the guy they found is Dean.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finding Dean in Nashville doesn’t go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers! Finally, we’re getting to the meaty part of the story. I wanted to get there so bad, that’s why I decided to publish twice a week.
> 
> Do not fear, this is not the only surprise I have in store for you. Far from it. But I’d say this is the first BIG one. :-D
> 
> I really hope you’ll enjoy this new chapter… and mostly, I hope it’ll make you wanna come back for more!
> 
> See you again next Thursday.

The next afternoon, Castiel parked his car next to a  _ Sioux Falls _ vehicle in the Nashville General Hospital’s parking lot. A dark haired woman was leaning on passenger door, her arms crossed over her chest.

“Castiel?” she asked the second he got out of his car. He only had time to nod before she came forward to grab him in a strong hug. “Sucky circumstances, but I’m still glad to finally meet you.” The sheriff let him go a second later, barely leaving enough time for Castiel to hug her back. “I’ve already been up there… it’s him, it’s Dean.”

“How is he?”

“Still in a coma. They can’t find what’s wrong with him, they say everything’s working the way it should. Save for the part where he’s not waking up.”

Castiel nodded, following the woman toward the entrance.

“He didn’t have any IDs, so I told them his name is Dean Smith,” she continued in a discreet tone. “That’s the surname the guys told me to use if something like this ever happened.” She stopped, putting a firm hand on the ex-angel’s forearm. “Told them you’re his brother, so that would make you Castiel Smith. Is that all right?”

“Yes, perfect, thank you.” Castiel looked around, a little worried. “Except I don’t have identifications to this name. All I have are my vessel’s old wallet and a fake FBI badge.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m all you need in terms of ID, okay?”

Agreeing, Castiel let himself be led to Dean’s room. His heart skipped a beat when he entered, the unusual paleness and fragility of the hunter enough to make him sick to his stomach. He cleared his throat as he approached the bed.

“Dean?”

The hunter didn’t react, which Castiel had expected. Jody came to stand next to him, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“Do you know how long he’s been like this?”

Jody shook her head. “Hikers found him three days ago in Percy Warner Park; he almost died of hypothermia. Doctors say he’s been found just in time.”

“Hypothermia?”

“That’s when your body is exposed to—”

“I know what hypothermia is,” Castiel said in a snap. He glanced at Jody when her hand left his shoulder. Her dark eyes were hard on him. “I’m sorry, Sheriff Mills,” he said, much softer. “I shouldn’t have talked to you this way. I’m just… I’m very nervous… what I meant to say was, has it even been cold enough for hypothermia?”

“Nights can still be cold enough around here, and if that’s what the doctors say—”

“Indeed, that’s what the doctors are saying.”

Jody and Castiel turned to find a much older man in a white blouse standing by the door. “Good afternoon, Sheriff. Is this the patient’s brother?” he said, coming to stand across the bed. “I’m Dr. Martin. Mr. Smith, I presume?”

“Castiel, yes. How is Dean doing?”

“Still unresponsive, as you can see. Maybe hearing an even more familiar voice will help him snap out of it.” He kept his eyes on the chart in his hands when he spoke again. “Now do you know what your brother could have doing naked in the woods? Is he on any drugs? Does he suffer from a mental illness we should know about?”

“Like I told you, Doctor—”

“I know what you told me, Sheriff, but you know as well as I do that people lie. Especially to the police. You might not know everything.”

“Whatever Sheriff Mills might have said about Dean regarding drugs or mental illnesses, she’d be right. No history with either… he may have been depressed as of late, since his—our brother’s passing, but the only thing Dean could have indulged in is alcohol.”

Dr. Martin nodded. “How about close relatives? Any with mental illnesses? Your parents or grandparents, maybe?”

Not that Castiel knew about any of those people’s medical history, but he wasn’t about to let his ignorance transpire. “No.” 

“Very well.” The doctor put the chart back at the foot of the bed. “At least he’s stable, there doesn’t seem to be any deterioration. I’m still hopeful that he will resurface, I just can’t say that he’ll be the same man he once was. Please keep that in mind, would you? We’re talking possible brain damages here.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jody said, her jaw set tight.

“Yes, thank you,” Castiel parroted, taking Dean’s inert hand in his the second the doctor left the room. Castiel swallowed when he felt the familiar tingles of his skin touching another. “Dean? Can you hear me?” He closed his eyes, giving Dean’s hand a little squeeze, and waited in the hope he’d feel the tiniest of movements.

“Do you think he’s decided he’d rather not come back?” he heard Jody ask. “You know, with Sam being gone and all.”

“It’s a definite possibility,” Castiel responded under his breath. “But he’d be an idiot to do that,” he added, unable to keep the frustration from seeping out in his tone. “He knows there’s nowhere to go. No Heaven, no Hell… he knows this.”

“What are you talking about?”

Still with the hunter’s hand in his, Castiel turned a misty gaze onto Jody. “That’s how Sam died, he closed the gates of Hell… and now he’s stuck down there. And the angels falling to Earth? It’s because Heaven was shut down too.” He looked away, not ready to divulge his implication at this time. “All that’s left is the veil, where no soul can rest in peace. Dean knows this and he wouldn’t want that, no matter how depressed he’d be.”

For some time, Jody stood there looking like a fish out of water; she had her mouth agape, like she wanted to speak and couldn’t finding the words.

“I wish Dean would have told you about all of this,” Castiel could only think to say after glancing at her.

“Sorry,” Jody finally spluttered, “It’s just a lot of information to get all at once.” She looked at Dean again, her brows knitted. “Could that be why he’s like this? I mean, maybe he is—maybe he’s dead and he just can’t go anywhere?”

The thought had indeed crossed Castiel’s mind, but he only shrugged. It wasn’t a possibility he wanted to entertain right now, if ever. Instead, he decided he’d rather try and call on Dean, hoping the hunter was just a bit lost.

“Come on, Dean, you have to be able to hear me. Follow my voice, find me like you did in Purgatory. It’s not like you have anywhere else to go, do you?” Castiel closed his eyes. “You’ve beaten death numerous times before, you can do it again.”

The hand in his stayed idle.

“I wish this was a fairytale.”

Castiel sent a questioning look to the sheriff. “What?”

“You know, like  _ Snow White _ or  _ Sleeping Beauty _ ?” She quirked her head at the ex-angel’s confused stare. “You gotta know about fairy tales, right?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t say that I do.”

“ _ Sleeping Beauty _ …? A witch hits a princess with a sleeping curse. She comes out of it when a prince gives her a true love’s kiss. Or  _ Snow White _ ; she gets poisoned by a witch and again, a prince’s kiss wakes her up?”

“Kisses can’t wake people up… plus, Dean wasn’t cursed.” He looked at the hunter again, suddenly filled with doubt. “Was he? Do you think he could be under a curse?”

“Believe me, after what happened the last time I went on a date, I’d believe pretty much anything. Did you know that witches are real? Of course you’d know…”

Although he knew Jody was speaking, Castiel couldn’t hear her anymore; all he could think of was the possibility of his friend being under some kind of spell.  _ I’m not a prince, and Dean’s certainly not a princess _ , he thought, biting at his lower lip.  _ But I do care for him a great deal _ , he had to admit as he rose from his seat.

With Dean’s hand still in his, Castiel puckered his lips and leaned down. He could hear the sheriff still babbling behind him, but he kept ignoring her. All he could focus on were his own heartbeat and the hunter’s green eyes.

The hunter’s opened green eyes.

“Cas?” Dean said in a raspy voice. 

Castiel’s own eyes bugged out of his skull and he jumped back; no kiss had been necessary, after all. Before he could speak, Dean glanced to the side and frowned.

“Jody?”

Dean started looking around to assess his surroundings. After what seemed like an eternity, his eyes settled back on Castiel and he spoke again.

“Cas—where—where’s Dean?”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that Sam is back, the question remains… where in the world is Dean Winchester?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh well… and here I thought you guys wouldn’t guess what was happening after the last chapter! (nah, not really… I was merely hoping you wouldn’t… because I’m naive like that.)
> 
> Plus, it’s not like I hadn’t told you from the start that Sam would be back. What’s a SPN story without Sam, huh? I ask you! It’s nothin'! Doesn’t matter that my OTP is Destiel, Sam HAS to be there.
> 
> I really hope you’ll like this next chapter. And do not worry; of course Dean will be back. At some point. In the future. I know where he is, I could tell the guys, or I could even tell you, but I won’t! What would be the fun in that???
> 
> Okay, enough teasing… you go on and read, I’ll see you again next Monday! Toodles!
> 
> .

Realization washed over Castiel like a cold wave; he knew the man behind those eyes and it wasn’t Dean.

“Sam?”

A hint of fear sparkled in the hunter’s gaze. “What’s going on? Where’s Dean?” He turned to Jody, her own baffled expression not making things any easier. “What happened?”

“Castiel, care to explain?” she said, her eyes fixated on the man in the bed.

“I—I can’t.”

“Can someone answer me?” Sam almost yelled as he tried to sit up. He winced when he felt the pull of the IV in his arm. “What the hell’s going on? Where am I?”

“Sam,” Castiel started to say, but the rest caught in his throat. He took a deep breath before speaking again. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Hmm… the old church. Completing the trials, I think. I cured Crowley and then… I woke up here.” As he spoke, Sam squirmed in the bed, his face contorted in evident discomfort. After attempting to tug at the tubes sticking out of his arms, he peeked under the covers and let out a pitiful whine. “Man… I hate catheters.” 

Only after letting the covers fall back down did he seem to notice his hands. “What the hell…” he muttered, turning them around and flexing the fingers as if he’d only gotten them.

Both Jody and Castiel knew what was happening to their friend, still they said nothing. As far as Castiel was concerned, he believed it may be easier on Sam if he were to put the pieces together himself. So they looked on as the man poked at his skin and examined himself. Reality seemed to really dawn on him the moment his hands got to his face.

“I need a mirror,” he said in a hiss after brushing a trembling hand through Dean’s short hair. “Please!”

It wasn’t like any of them had a mirror handy, so Jody took her phone and opened the camera application, turning the device toward Sam. His eyes widened in horror when he saw his brother looking back at him on the screen. He poked and pinched the freckled skin, if only to make sure that what he saw was real.

“Cas? What’s happening? If I’m here… where’s Dean? Is he in my body? Why isn’t he here?”

The former angel bristled, the fear in Sam’s – Dean’s – voice sending shivers down his spine.

“I don’t know where Dean is, Sam.” He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “For all we know, he could be in there with you. We’ll have to find that out, but for now… how are your feeling?”

“Me saying that I’m weirded out would be an understatement.”

“No shit…” Jody said under her breath.

Sam turned to look at her again, a thin smile gracing his lips. “Hey, Jody.” She smiled back and came to hug him. When she withdrew from his arms, Castiel noticed she had been shedding tears. “I’m okay,” Sam said, not sounding all that convinced.

“Like hell you are,” she replied, wiping her cheeks. “You’re inside your brother’s body. How is that okay?”

“Could be worse.” The trembling in Sam’s voice was more telling than his words. Still, he turned a determined stare onto Castiel. “Can we get out of here, now?”

“Hold on, cowboy,” Jody intervened. “You just woke up, you’re not going anywhere.”

“Your friend’s right,” they heard from behind them. “You should have told us he’d woken up,” a nurse said as she walked in. She grabbed the chart and came to stand next to her patient, giving the others a pointed look so they’d give her some space. They obeyed the silent order without a word, looking on as she took Sam’s vitals and turning away when she took care of the catheter.

“You seem to be doing all right, Mr. Smith. Which is pretty weird, if you ask me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’ve been faking all this time.” She placed the chart back at the end of the bed. “I’ll let Dr. Martin know you’ve woken up, he’ll wanna come and see you. Are you thirsty? Hungry, maybe?”

“Thirsty,” Sam said, wincing as he held a couple of fingers against his throat. One could only imagine how weird it was to hear himself talk in his brother’s voice.

Rather than coming back with water, the nurse brought a glass filled with ice chips. “You just woke up, let’s take it easy, all right?” was all she said to explain the ice before leaving again.

“I can get you water from the bathroom, Sam,” Castiel offered, seeing the purse in his friend’s lips. Didn’t matter that the body in front of him was Dean’s, the expressions were undeniably Sam’s.

“The nurse is right, Castiel,” Jody said from behind him. “If he drinks too much, too fast, he’ll make himself sick.”

With a nod, Sam took the glass and tipped it back to drop some ice in his mouth. “God, that’s good,” he said, pretty much moaning around the frozen water. He took some more, crushing the chips between his teeth, until the glass was empty.

“Now that I’m hydrated, can we go? Could you give me my—Dean’s clothes?”

“You were found naked, Sam.”

“What? Why?”

Castiel shrugged. “Only Dean would know.”

“Paradoxical undressing, maybe?” Jody said before recusing herself. “No, if that’s what it was, he would have died.” She looked up to see both men sending her confused looks. “It’s the final stage of hypothermia. People get naked believing they’re too hot when they’re actually freezing and on the verge of dying.”

Suppressing a shudder, Castiel shook his head, not wanting to dwell on the unwarranted images of the hunter freezing to death.

“Okay… are we far from the bunker?” Sam asked. “Can you go and get me some—”

“We’re in Tennessee, but I do have some clothes I could lend you. Most of what I own was once Dean’s, so it should fit.”

“You own clothes? Since when do you…” He paused and looked at Castiel from head to toe, as if seeing him for the first time. “Hey! Where’s the suit and coat?”

Jody didn’t let Castiel answer.

“I really think you should wait to see the doctor, Sam. You may be feeling fine, but we better make sure, don’t you think? What if you have a concussion?”

“I agree,” Castiel said, choosing not to answer Sam’s questions just yet. “While you wait for him, I’ll go to the car and get some clothes for you.”

“And I have to go back to Sioux Falls,” Jody announced, going to take Sam in her arms again. “There’s no way I can be here when you boys pull your disappearing act.”

After making sure Sam would wait for the doctor – not that he had much choice – Castiel walked back to the parking lot alongside Jody. He waited for them to be outside before speaking again.

“Will us fleeing the hospital be problematic for you? You did say you knew us, I wouldn’t want you to—”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t worry about me.” She shook her head, a dismayed look on her face. “What the hell’s going on, Castiel? How did this happened? Can’t you do anything? You’re an angel, right?”

“Not anymore, sadly. I’m graceless… human.” Jody looked shocked and about to start asking questions again, but he didn’t let her. “And I don’t know what happened to Dean, but it has to be magic. Powerful, and probably not the clean kind either. Now, were Dean and Sam cursed or did Dean make some kind of deal? We won’t know until we find him.”

“I’d love to know more about what happened. When you get a second to breathe, call me, or have Sam call if you prefer. In the meantime, whatever I can do to help, you just let me know.”

“I will,” the former angel promised as he let himself be hugged by the Sheriff once more.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Castiel said as Jody climbed in her cruiser. “Do you know if they found Dean’s car?”

“I haven’t heard anything.” She gave him a smile he found reassuring. “You handle Sam, I’ll take care of the Impala. I know how important that car is for the boys. Take care, Castiel.”

As the vehicle left the parking lot, Castiel popped open the trunk of his car to grab the duffel bag with trembling hands. His fists clasped on the handles, he swallowed the lump in his throat, sniffled, and closed his eyes.

_ Everything’s gonna be okay _ , he tried to convince himself as he made his way back toward the hospital.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam believes he knows a way they can find out what happened with Dean’s soul.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you know, you guys will be getting quite a lot of Sam & Castiel in this fic… I know this is a Destiel fic first and foremost, but, well, with what’s happening right now, we can’t be getting much of that.
> 
> Or can we?
> 
> .

It took some time for Sam and Castiel to be able to flee the hospital. The perfect opportunity didn’t arise until late afternoon, when the nurses started handing out dinner trays. Thanks to Sam wearing Castiel’s green hoodie – which looked a bit snug over Dean’s bulkier frame – they were able to go unnoticed as they fled the hospital.

They made their way to the parking lot in no time, Sam coming to a screeching halt when Castiel opened the door of a tan Continental for him.

“Where’s Baby?”

“I don’t know, Sheriff Mills is looking into it. Get in, we have to go!”

“Dean’s gonna have a bitch fit if we don’t find her,” Sam said as Castiel got behind the wheel. “She has to be close to where they found me.”

Castiel turned to his friend. “I’m sure we’ll find her.”

Sam nodded as Castiel sped out of the parking lot.

They drove until one in the morning, Castiel stopping at a roadside motel somewhere around Springfield, MO to get some shut eye. Too eager to get back home, Sam suggested that he took the wheel instead. Castiel wouldn’t hear it, arguing Sam had just gone through a harrowing experience and needed to rest.

“Harrowing is a bit much, Cas,” the hunter objected. “I swear, I’m feeling good. Actually, I feel like a million bucks, like I had the best sleep of my entire life.”

“I saw you dozing off earlier, Sam.”

“And now I could go on for hours. Come on, let’s get to the bunker already.”

With a deep sigh, Castiel relented, putting the keys back in the ignition and getting out to reach the passenger side while Sam slid behind the wheel. Ten minutes later, Castiel fell asleep, his face smushed against the cold window.

He woke up in a start to find they were in the bunker’s garage. He looked down at the hand on his forearm, then up at the man whose hand it belonged too.  _ Dean _ … 

Reality settled in like a punch in his gut;  _ Not Dean. _

They stepped out of the vehicle without a word, leaving the garage to reach the sleeping quarters. Dean walking in Sam’s room made Castiel’s insides want to crawl up in his throat. He closed his eyes when the thought of Sam settling into Dean’s room didn’t make him feel any better.

Nothing made sense anymore.

Sam soon came back out, looking distraught.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked. Didn’t matter that he himself had just been thinking about the strangeness of it all.

“I—nothing—I don’t know… I caught my reflection in the mirror and… it’s just so creepy.” He sighed, shaking his head. “It’s happened to me before, you know? The switching body thing… never thought I’d go through anything weirder and yet, here I am.”

Castiel wished he could reassure his friend, that this would be all settled soon enough. Still, the words wouldn’t come, because they’d be nothing but lies.

“What do you say we get some breakfast?” he suggested instead. 

Sam nodded and waited for Castiel to drop his duffel in his room. They made their way to the kitchen in silence, soon greeted by the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. Kevin sat at the table, a book opened in front of him.

“Hey, guys,” he said without looking up. “Glad to see you’re alive, Dean.”

The prophet’s words made Castiel wince; he had forgotten to tell Kevin about the latest developments. He came to sit at the table with his coffee – Sam doing the same thing right next to him – and cleared his throat.

“Hmm… Kevin? I—I didn’t find Dean.”

Snorting a laugh, the teen looked up at both men. “Real funny, Cas. Am I supposed to ignore the fact that he’s sitting right next to you? Is this some kind of game?”

“I’m not Dean,” Sam said, making their friend laugh some more. “I’m Sam.”

Kevin’s laughter soon died in his throat. He had to have noticed something in Sam and Castiel’s expressions because his eyes bugged out in shock.

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

“Sadly,” Castiel confirmed while Sam nodded.

“But… how? And where’s Dean?”

“We don’t know what happened, and we don’t know where Dean is.” Castiel turned to Sam and squinted, wishing he could still see beyond the barrier of human skin. “I’m hoping that Dean is still in there and just… asleep or something.”

Sam’s expression shifted to look apologetic. “When I was driving earlier, I tried to talk to Dean. Called out to him in thoughts, but he never answered. It really feels like I’m alone in here.”

Refusing to accept the fact that Dean could be anywhere else, Castiel shook his head. “As I said, he could be asleep somewhere in his body. Or… unaware that he isn’t at the wheel. Maybe he can’t hear you and—”

“Hey, hey, Cas… it’s okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe he’s in here with me,” the hunter said, forcing Castiel to realize he’d been getting agitated, his breathing quick and shallow. “But you gotta calm down, okay? Take a deep breath.”

Castiel complied, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly through his nose. He bristled when his skin pebbled on his back, where Sam had started to rub a hand in soft circular motions. When the gesture stopped abruptly, Castiel opened his eyes to see his friend frowning.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah! Just felt this static shock in my hand, all the way to the back of my neck.” Sam stretched his arm, then his neck to either sides before shrugging. “Maybe Dean’s got some nerve issues he’s never talked about.” He chuckled. “We all do…”

Feeling a little more like himself, Castiel jumped right back into the main issue. “As an angel, I could have gone in to see if Dean’s anywhere in there. Since I’m human now, we’ll need to find us another angel. I could send out a general prayer and hope for one to be willing to help.”

“You can’t be serious, Cas. With what happened with Hael, and angels killing folks all over the country, I’d think you’d know better,” Sam said.

“Hael?” Kevin asked, but neither men answered.

“We don’t have much choice, Sam.”

“I might have an idea. Kind of thought about it earlier, as I was driving. I saw the sign for Lawrence and… there’s this medium we know. Well, I hope she’s still there. We should go see her.”

Castiel nodded, liking Sam’s idea a whole lot. “Indeed, someone with the gift of sight should be able to help us know if Dean is with you or not.”

“Then it’s settled. What do you say we leave now? It’s only four hours away.”

“Let me take a shower and change into clean clothes first?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that too.” Sam turned to Kevin. “How about you? You coming?”

There was no hesitation in Kevin’s response. “Being stuck in a car for hours? No thanks! I’d rather stay here and work on the tablet, if you don’t mind.”

“It’s fine,” Sam answered as he got to his feet. He went to drop his mug in the sink before leaving the kitchen. Castiel stayed behind, squinting at the prophet.

“What?”

“Are you sure you’re doing okay?” Castiel asked. “Don’t you think a change of scenery would do you some good? A bit of fresh air?”

Kevin shrugged, fiddling with the cover of the book he’d been reading earlier. “I don’t need to cram myself in a car to get some fresh air. All I gotta do is open the door and take a deep breath.” He shrugged again, averting Castiel’s eyes. “Plus, all that brightness outside, it’s not helping with the migraines. I’ll be better off here.”

Castiel got to his feet to dispose of his mug, too. “If you say so. Want us to bring something back for you? Some medicine, maybe?”

“Got all I need in the bunker’s infirmary, I’ll be okay. Now go and find Dean.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Castiel are back in Lawrence to meet an old friend of the Winchesters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so begins (continues?) the search for Dean Winchester. I don’t know about you, but I find him to be highly frustrating… he’s not even "there" and I wanna smack him over the head. Grab him by the ear and spank him and… huh… that’s taking a turn I’d rather not entertain.
> 
> If anyone gets to spank Dean Winchester, it’ll be Castiel!!! Just sayin'…
> 
> (No… it’s not that kind of story, I promise. No spanking is to happen. Sorry!)
> 
> .

It was close to dinner time when Castiel parked the car in front of Missouri Moseley’s home where she sat on her porch swing. She didn’t look surprised, as if she’d been waiting for them to arrive.

“Now, what shenanigans did you Winchester boys get yourself into this time?” she said in a scoff as the men climbed the stairs.

If Castiel had been on his own, he would probably have been taken aback by the blunt greeting. Sam, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be the least bit offended.

“Missouri,” he said fondly, dipping down to take the woman in his arms. She briefly reciprocated the hug, soon pushing the man back to get to her feet. “Now, Sam Winchester… care to explain what you’re doing inside your brother’s body?”

“I wish I could,” he said, motioning to Castiel. “This is our friend, Castiel… Castiel, this is Missouri Moseley, the best medium in all of the Americas.”

The woman huffed at the flattery, gazing at the newcomer. The frown on her face soon morphed into shock. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing. You were an angel, weren’t you?” The grief that brushed over Castiel’s face made Missouri’s features soften.

“I’m sorry, Honey. I didn’t mean to be insensitive. It’s just… I’ve seen some of the other angels that fell and they weren’t like you. Their wings were broken and charred, but their grace was intact.”

“I didn’t fall, at least not in the same manner they did.”

“I can see that… you’re pretty much human now, aren’t you?”

As she talked, Missouri guided the men inside her house, gesturing for them to take place on the tiny sofa in the den. She sat in the armchair facing them, her hands clasped over her knees. 

“Now… who’s gonna tell me all about that big ol’ mess,” she said, he dark eyes travelling between both men.

Before Sam could speak, Castiel took the lead. “I’m afraid we don’t know much about what happened,” he said. “What you need to know is that Sam died not too long ago. On the same day the angels fell, actually. He did so by closing the gates of Hell, which sent all the demons where they came from.”

The ex-angel’s chest filled with pride for his friend when Missouri let out an impressed whistle.

“Since Heaven was also shut down – which is the reason the angels fell – it means souls have nowhere else to go but the veil. I tried to contact Sam, but I couldn’t find him. Which lead me to believe that he had to be in Hell.”

“Were you?” Missouri asked Sam, who kept his eyes low when he admitted he couldn’t remember. She didn’t insist, looking back at Castiel so he’d continue.

“I told Dean of my suspicions and we were to try and find angels to help us get Sam back, but Dean just… he disappeared on me before we could do anything. I found him, then he disappeared again.” Castiel sighed, the weight of losing his friend heavy on his shoulders. “Didn’t know how to look for him again until he was found in Tennessee last week, in a coma. When he came to, it was Sam’s soul inside Dean’s body.”

“I see… and what do you think I can do to help?”

Sam took over. “I’d like to know if Dean’s in here with me. If he is, you’ll know, right?”

“Of course, but… I can already tell you that he’s not.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true, boy,” Missouri answered, her lips pursed. “You say you were dead, right? Did you go and unearth your body? Maybe that’s where Dean’s soul has gone. You know, some kind of switch-a-roo type of thing.”

“I don’t know if Dean gave me a hunter’s funeral. If he did, that means there’d be no body for him to go into.” The chuckle he let out sounded bitter. “But I’m sure he didn’t. We never follow the rules when it comes to each other.” Sam turned a sad gaze onto Castiel. “Do you know?”

The former angel shook his head and sighed. “Even if he didn’t incinerate your body, I hope Dean didn’t believe he could get sent there. There’d be nothing to keep him there.”

“Didn’t you do it, Cas? Dean had been dead for four months when you brought him back.”

“I was an angel, Sam. I had the power to rebuild Dean’s body so he could rise again. Dean couldn’t have done this, even if he tried.”

Sam and Castiel stopped talking, turning their attention to Missouri again. She had her eyes closed, mumbling under her breath. Castiel knew what the woman was doing and kept silent, holding a finger to his lips so Sam would understand to do the same.

It took about five minutes for the woman to open her eyes again.

“I’m sorry, boys. I peeked through veil and couldn’t find Dean.”

Both men startled when Sam leaned forward and his knee brushed against Castiel’s. “Does that mean my brother’s in Hell?” Sam asked in a trembling voice.

“It’s a definite possibility,” the woman answered. “Pulling a soul out of Hell probably ain’t that easy, there has to be a price to be paid.” Before the men could speak, she held a finger up. “However, I don’t think you should take my word as gospel on this matter. I only know what I see. And stuff like that, it ain’t my cup of tea.”

Sam seemed to have found his footing again when he spoke. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m not the person you should be talking to. This smells a whole lot like witchcraft to me and I don’t do that sort of thing.” She pursed her lips. “And I won’t have it in my house either. I’m sorry, but I think you’d better go. I’m getting funky vibes from all of this.”

With a nod, Sam turned to Castiel again. “We have a whole lot of stuff about witches in the bunker. Maybe we should start there.”

Another idea already brewing in the back of his mind, Castiel rose to his feet. “I think we’ll be on our way now. Thank you, Mrs. Moseley.”

“Yeah, thanks, Missouri,” Sam added, getting up, too. “I’d like to find Dean sooner rather than later.”

“Then I hope you do. May God be watching over you both.”

Knowing better than to comment on that last part, neither men said another word as they left the tiny house to get back in the car. Sam grabbed his phone from the dashboard while Castiel got back on the road.

“Jody found the car,” Sam soon said, putting the phone on speaker.

_ “…Hillwood, near where they found Dean. I’m having it towed to Sioux Falls so I can keep an eye on it. Call me back whenever you can.” _

“One less thing to worry about,” Sam offered after shutting off the phone. “Now all we gotta do is find my brother.”

Castiel nodded, already knowing how they might be able to achieve that. “I’ve thought about it and I don’t think we need to go back to the bunker for this.” He glanced at Sam, his heart jolting once more at the sight of Dean sitting next to him. He wondered if he’d ever get used to it, all the while hoping he wouldn’t have to.

“There’s this soul locating spell…” he continued, his eyes back on the road. “As long as his soul was in his body, it couldn’t have worked. Because of the etchings on your ribs,” he explained. “Now if his soul was displaced, I should be able to find him. As long as he’s on this plane of existence, of course. And not warded against angel magic.”

“Great! What do we need?”

“A place where we can do the spell undisturbed. But first, we need to find a shop that sells very specific items. A place that tends to hunters, maybe?”

“Got it!” Sam said, pointing somewhere in the distance. “Next light, take a left turn. We’re going to see another one of my dad’s old friends.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of magic and a lot of mileage…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what I’d like to see happen on the show? I know there are a lot of characters already, and we don’t get to see our favorite ones often enough… not only talking about Castiel, but also Jody, Donna, Garth!! At least we got to see Claire last week, so that was nice.
> 
> Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that it’d be nice for the boys to have some kind of Bobby-ish character. A reference type person, someone who sells stuff to hunters. We’ve seen some over the years, but they weren’t "important", were either killed or just never "used" again.
> 
> I know… Sam and Dean have loads of stuff in their trunk and in the bunker, and they spend a lot of time on the road (they have to restock at some point, don’t they?). I imagine that when they need "produce", they find stuff wherever they can. Still… I miss Bobby. I miss the experienced parental figure helping them out once in a while. I know Mary’s back, but… it’s not the same. She’s supposed to be younger than they are so if anything, they’re the experienced ones here.
> 
> Where am I going with this? Not sure, quite frankly. I guess I just had fun coming up with that original character you’ll be introduced to. Not that she’s the best character to have ever been written, her presence just makes me wish there was a "provider of stuff" on the show. Don’t ask me why, I just do.
> 
> What if it was a café… hunters would gather there. Chat. Share experiences, theories. 
> 
> Now I’m imagining a Friends/Supernatural crossover, and it’s not as disturbing as it should be.
> 
> Enough babbling, I hope you’ll enjoy this next chapter!! See you again Thursday!! :D
> 
> .

The type of establishment Sam lead him to left a bad taste in the back of Castiel’s mouth; a pawn shop. He knew what those were for having visited one in the hopes he’d be able to get some money after falling – before Dean came to get him. The shopkeeper had laughed at him then thrown him out, seeing how Castiel didn’t have a single thing to pawn and still expected to be given money.

The shop bell jingling pulled Castiel from the memory. He followed Sam as he went to see the white haired woman that stood behind the counter. She looked up when Sam spoke, revealing a patch covering her right eye.

“Maria DeSousa!” Sam said with a wide grin.

“Dean Winchester, as I live and breathe,” she answered with a smile just as bright. She leaned over the counter with her hand extended. “Where’s your little brother at?”

Sam shook the offered hand. “Maria… it’s me, I’m Sam.”

“I’m sorry… in my souvenir you looked much taller, and skin—”

“No, I mean, this is Dean’s body, but I’m Sam. My soul got displaced.”

The last thing Castiel would have expected the woman to do was to start laughing. “You have to be kidding me! How in the hell did that happen?”

“We don’t know, but we need to find Dean’s soul. He’s not in here.” Sam moved aside for Castiel to come forward. “This is our friend, Castiel. He needs some stuff for a locating spell.”

“Huh… so you’re Castiel,” the lady said with an appreciative glance, curling a finger so they’d follow her. “I’ve heard about you, you know? You’re kinda famous in the business; pretty unusual to have an angel running around with hunters… or with anyone at all, I’d imagine.”

“I’m not an angel anymore,” Castiel felt the need to precise. She didn’t comment as she lead them in the dimly lit backstore. The former angel inhaled, the fragrant air reminiscent of a medieval apothecary shop he’d visited many centuries ago.

“So, what is it you need? I’ve got pretty much everything there is.”

“I need a recipient made of red clay, a bowl if you have it. I also need Ancient Sea salt, powdered amber, and any type of consecrated oil. All you can spare, please.” A spark of hope ignited in his gut. “Say… do you have Holy oil?”

“Holy oil? Is consecrated oil not holy enough for you?” the woman scoffed as she gathered the ingredients, dropping them in a small cardboard box she had Sam hold for her.

“Don’t worry about it, consecrated oil will do just fine,” Castiel assured her.  _ Maybe we could go get the Impala and grab the little we have left in the trunk. Then we could trap an angel and— _

“Care to tell me what kind of locating spell that stuff’s for? Don’t think I’ve ever heard of it.”

“Angel magic,” Castiel answered, storing the Sioux Falls idea for later. “Actually, if I still were an angel, I wouldn’t need the ingredients, my grace would be enough. I just need a little help to boost the incantation. Which reminds me… we also need a map. Do you sell those?”

“I’ve got some in the front. What do you need?”

Castiel shrugged, sending a questioning gaze at Sam who took a second to think. “Maybe we should start big… like, a map of the United States. We can’t be sure where Dean’s soul is.”

“I agree,” Castiel said.

“I have maps of the city and the state, but I don’t got nothing for the whole country,” the woman said. “I do have nice old atlases, but I don’t think they’d work for you. And they’re pretty expensive, too.”

“It’s okay, Maria, it shouldn’t be hard to find. How much do we owe you?”

Instead of answering, the woman cocked her head to the side, her gaze firm on Castiel. “Teach me how to do that spell and it’s yours for free.”

“I’m sorry, I’d rather not divulge angelic secrets,” Castiel replied without hesitation, hoping the woman would understand. 

She must have because she shrugged and smiled. “All righty, then. It’ll be an even fifty for it all.”

◊—◊—◊

Sam had the idea to go to the library rather than try to find an actual map to buy. They printed some copies of basic U.S. maps from the Internet then found an isolated part of the library for Castiel to do the ritual. Sam stood further away to make sure nobody would come and disrupt them.

“Do you think demons know about that spell?” Sam asked as he watched Castiel mix the ingredients. “Because Ruby did a locating spell with a map this one time. She had none of this stuff, though,” he added, pointing at the bowl.

“Demons have their own magic. While theirs is based in darkness, ours is bathed in light,” Castiel said, hating that his magic could be mistaken for a demon’s.

“Ruby said she was a witch before, said nothing about demon magic.”

Castiel lit up a match and looked up at Sam. “Most witches use dark magic, Sam. Same as demons,” he explained before dropping the match in the bowl. As a tall bluish flame rose, Castiel spoke an incantation in Enochian. When the last word was uttered and the flame dwindled, the edges of the map started to burn out.

He kept his eyes on the printout as it got consumed by the spell. When the burning stopped, only a small part in the middle of West Virginia remained. Castiel let out a relieved breath.

“He’s in West Virginia.”

“That’s kinda far. How tired are you?” Sam asked, leaving his post to stand next to his friend.

Castiel took a second to think, trying to evaluate his state of tiredness. He still had trouble with that and often overestimated his capacities. Having to repress a yawn at that moment clued him in. “I could use some sleep,” he confessed. “How about you?”

“I’m feeling pretty good actually, mostly hungry. I’m all for leaving right now. I could grab something at a drive-thru and make some time on the road while you sleep. What do you say?”

Twenty minutes later, Sam was driving toward West Virginia and munching on a burger while Castiel tried to get some rest in the backseat. He kept his eyes closed, but no matter how exhausted he was, he couldn’t fall asleep. 

After what felt like hours, he sat up, trying to rub the tiredness out of his eyes.

“Can’t sleep, huh?” he heard Dean say.  _ No! Sam! _ he reminded himself, hating how easily he could forget who really stared at him behind those green eyes in the mirror.

Shaking his head, Castiel checked the time on his phone. Barely an hour had passed since they left Lawrence.

“Did you try counting sheep?”

“It’s too dark… and anyway, I doubt there’s any sheep around these parts,” Castiel said, squinting out the window. He heard Sam chuckle.

“Not actual sheep, Cas… I mean, in your mind. You close your eyes, imagine sheep strolling about and you count them.” He chuckled again. “Forget about it, it’s stupid.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s stupid… pointless, maybe.” His eyelids drooping, Castiel resumed his lying position. “I’ll try again,” he said, pulling the blanket he’d brought from the bunker all the way over his head.

“I’ll put some music on, maybe it’ll help.”

Soon, soft music filled the cabin, something very different from whatever Dean would play. Castiel knew enough to realize Sam had found a station with classical music. A contented smile graced his lips as he let the melodies lull him to sleep.

Sam woke him up five hours later so they could switch. Unlike Castiel, the hunter fell asleep in a matter of minutes. Both he and Dean had grown up in the Impala; sleeping in a car had to be somewhat familiar, if not comfortable.

Another six hours later, they switched again, this time Castiel choosing to sit in the front with Sam. They switched a couple of more times to end up at a gas station near Charleston to fill up and buy a map of West Virginia. 

They didn’t have to go very far to find a place to do the spell; picnic tables available for clients to use behind the station’s convenience store. It was late enough so they could do their thing under the cover of night without garnering much attention. Both sipping on very bad coffee, they sat at one of the tables and used rocks to hold the map down. 

Like before, Castiel dropped a match in the bowl and said the Enochian incantation. Soon, the map started to burn at the edges. The men held their breaths as the paper turned to ash, until there was no paper left to burn. Castiel swallowed the fear that had lodged itself in his throat to state the obvious.

“Dean isn’t in West Virginia anymore.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam has questions for Castiel, questions the former angel doesn’t know how to answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another Thursday, another chapter where the boys are making some good progress… just not in every area, maybe!
> 
> Feelings are the worst, tbh… ;-)
> 
> I hope you’ll like where this is going! See you again next Monday! AND I WISH US ALL A GREAT EPISODE TONIGHT! :D
> 
> .

What scared Castiel the most, as he prepared the tracking spell once more, was that finding Dean the first time had been a fluke. That what the spell had found was merely a remnant of Dean’s existence. 

That Dean would have ceased to be.

When the spell left the southern part of Illinois untouched, he let out a relieved breath. He looked up to find a similar emotion on Sam’s face, until frustration took over. The hunter cleaned the table of everything with an angry sweep of his arm.

“We’ve crossed paths with him! We drove through this part of Illinois and just… we fucking missed him, Cas!” Sam went to card a hand in his hair as he spoke, aborting mid-gesture when there wasn’t enough hair to brush off. He let out an enraged groan.

Already kneeling on the grass to pick everything up, Castiel had to take a deep breath so he wouldn’t scream back at his friend. “There’s no evidence that we would have even seen him, Sam.” 

“So what, you think he’s a ghost? Or that he’s walking around wearing some random person?”

Castiel shook his head, dispirited to find the bowl in pieces. “I don’t know, Sam. I wish I did, but I don’t.” He put everything back in the box, even the clay shards. “We should get going. I’ll drive.”

Sam didn’t object, handing him the keys and grabbing the box. They didn’t speak for a while, the both of them tired and discouraged. As they headed toward Illinois, Castiel silently hoped the hunter would just go to sleep, if only to be able to take the wheel when he himself would be too tired to drive.

Instead, Sam took his phone.

“Hey, Kevin! You’re on speaker. Thought we’d let you know what’s going on.”

“It’s about time, guys. Haven’t heard from you since you left, was getting worried here.”

“Sorry—we’ve just been—Missouri confirmed Dean’s not with me.”

“Thought as much. So now what?”

“We did a locating spell and found Dean in West Virginia, but when we got there he was already gone. Now the spell places him somewhere in Illinois.”

“So he’s moving around? Like a spirit?”

“We don’t know, Kevin,” Castiel provided in place of Sam. Remembering about the broken recipient, the ex-angel came up with a new idea. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Go to the bunker’s dispensary and see if there’s a red clay bowl, Ancient Sea salt, powdered amber, and consecrated oil.”

“Thought you couldn’t share angel secrets,” Sam said in a low voice while they listened in as Kevin did as requested.

“He’s the prophet,” Castiel only had time to say before Kevin spoke again.

“Found everything,” he said. “Now what?”

Castiel explained the ritual, asking the teenager to keep track of Dean’s whereabouts while he and Sam would try to catch up with him. When Kevin called back an hour later, it was to confirm that Dean had been heading South West, the spell having left a small piece of Oklahoma untouched.

When he called again, about five hours later, it was Sam at the wheel with Castiel trying to sleep on the passenger seat.

“Guys, Dean’s not moving anymore,” Kevin announced, which was enough to make Castiel alert again. “He stopped in Oklahoma over an hour ago, close to Texas. I was even able to pinpoint his location to a hotel in Lawton – thank you, Google Maps! And it’s not the cheap kind of hotels, guys… it’s a Hilton.”

“Hilton?” Sam said, sounding about as surprised as Castiel felt. Hotels weren’t something the hunter would ever choose to splurge on, that much he knew. “Did you try calling?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I know who to ask for. All I can say for sure is that there’s no room under Dean Winchester’s name, or even Dean Smith.”

If Castiel or Sam had thought they might want to stop and get some proper z’s, learning that Dean had stopped convinced them to keep going.

When Kevin called another seven hours later, it was to announce that Dean had started moving again. He’d been going West and had just crossed the border into Texas, putting him about five hours ahead of Sam and Cas. When he stopped again, it was in some small, but chic hotel in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

“Do you think we have time to get there before he leaves again?” Sam wondered after hanging up.

“It’s a possibility. It took longer for him to start moving again after last night.” Castiel glanced at Sam and smiled. “Pretty sure we’d even have time to stop for a proper meal.”

Sam looked back at him, a face splitting grin on his face. “Sitting down and order actual food? Man, I’d really like that.”

They soon found a Biggerson’s to stop at, where they both ordered salads. Didn’t matter that Castiel’s came garnished with fried chicken tenders and a sea of Ranch dressing, it was still called a salad and Sam couldn’t have been more proud.

The ate in companionable silence, until they were almost done.

“Hey, Cas… can I ask you a question?” Sam said as he wiped his mouth with a paper napkin.

The former angel nodded, chewing on his mouthful of greens.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I really get this feeling… did you and my brother—I mean—did something ever happen between the two of you?”

“What do you mean?” Castiel said after swallowing, mentally patting himself on the back to not have choked as he did.

“You guys have that profound bond thing, this much I know. And, when I woke up in the hospital, you looked right about to kiss me—well—right about to kiss him.”

“Oh, the kissing thing.” Castiel smiled, relieved that he actually had a suitable answer to give his friend. “It was nothing, I assure you. Jody had wondered if Dean could have been cursed, speaking of fairy tales and how princes woke up princesses by kissing them. We know for a fact that fairies and curses exist, so I thought it was worth a try. We had no clue what had happened, you know?”

Sam nodded, his brows still knotted in confusion. “It’s not just that, Cas. It’s… look, I’ve known you just as long as my brother, but I’ve never felt this way around you.” He looked up, chewing at his lower lip. “I mean… I feel the same way I always did, my thoughts aren’t different, but it’s like this body has a mind of its own. Almost like a muscle memory thing.” He dropped his eyes to the hand Castiel had resting on the table. “If I were to let it, my hand—Dean’s hand—would be grabbing yours. Dean’s body wants to be holding hands with you. You know what I mean?”

“I know what you mean, but I don’t see how this could be happening. Dean and I… my relationship with him isn’t different than it is with you.”

“Save for the profound bond, from when you pulled him from Hell.”

“Sam… I pulled you too from Hell so I don’t think—”

“Gimme your hand,” Sam said, sliding his own toward Castiel, palm up. “I wanna check something.”

Squinting, Castiel obeyed and slid his own hand over Sam’s who let out a shaky breath.

“This! This is what I mean. Do you feel it?”

Castiel indeed felt something, except he couldn’t say it was anything different than usual. “Like what?”

“The tingles…” Sam said as he let Castiel go before calling the waitress over.

The next second, the older woman came to stand next to them. “How can I help you?”

“I just want to test something out, if you don’t mind,” Sam said with a gentle smile. “Please give me your hand.”

Visibly pleased by the handsome man’s attention, the woman complied, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Thank you, you’ve been a great help,” Sam said, letting her go almost immediately. “We’re ready for the check now.”

The hunter waited for the woman to be far enough before speaking again. “Nothing, Cas. I felt nothing.” He took Castiel’s hand again and sighed. “When I touch you, it’s just… I’ve had that happen before, in my own body, with girls that I really had a strong connection with; Jess, Madison, Sarah, and hell, even with Ruby. So let me ask you again; are you and my brother sleeping together?”


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They actually find Dean this time. Doesn’t mean it goes well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost couldn’t publish today… got fatigue issues, but it’s my computer going crazy on me that made me shut it all off earlier and… well… I was in bed, forgetting that I had promised you this today. But here we are… also, it would have really sucked because I think today’s chapter has a nice "finale", I was really excited to post it.
> 
> I can only hope you too will like the turn of events.
> 
> So many things to come… *eyes fluttering*
> 
> See you next Thursday my dears!
> 
> .

“So, are you?”

Castiel shook his head, avoiding the green gaze fixated on him. Of course him and Dean weren’t sleeping together, not in the way Sam implied it anyway. It didn’t matter that they’d shared a bed on a couple of occasions, nothing more intimate than a hug ever happened between them and he made sure to tell Sam exactly that. How it came out shaky and curt wasn’t on purpose, yet Sam seemed to get the underlying message.

“I’m sorry, Cas, I didn’t wanna pry. It’s just… it feels weird, you know? I’m crammed inside my brother’s body and everything is so different. It’s uncomfortable enough having to go to the bathroom and handle my brother’s junk, I’m not super stoked to be getting chubbies over you on top of it.”

“Chubbies?”

“Boners, Cas. Erections?”

About to be choking on his own tongue, Castiel downed half of his glass of water in one go. Once done with that, he tried to regulate his breathing while Sam watched him, not looking as apologetic as he had sounded.

“Sam… you know as well as I do that your brother is quite libidinous. I’ve spent months on the road with him and he would seduce a different woman almost every night. You should know this, you’ve known him your whole life.” He cleared his throat, hating to be reminded of all those times the hunter had “entertained” his conquests in their room. “I just think the body is craving sex, it has nothing to do with me.” He looked around to find their waitress and pointed at her. “She looked pretty pleased when you took her hand earlier. Maybe you should go and seduce her, help the body find some release. I can wait in the car.”

“First off, she’s got a wedding ring on. Second, she doesn’t get me hot, Cas. You do.” 

Sam huffed, taking out his wallet to drop a couple of bills on the table as he got to his feet; waiting for the woman to bring their bill over didn’t seem like an option anymore. 

“Look, I wasn’t propositioning you or anything… don’t worry, I won’t bring it up again, all right? I’ll just—I’ll ignore it.” He let out a sad chuckle. “If Dean can, I most certainly can do it too.”

◊—◊—◊

As he drove toward Albuquerque, Castiel relished in the peace and quiet of the night drive while Sam slept on the backseat. It took a little over four hours to get to destination, Castiel parking in a strip mall across the street from the Andalucia Hotel. He called Kevin, all the while surveilling the building’s entrance.

“Have you been sleeping at all?” he asked when the teenager answered after the first ring.

“Dozed off for a couple of hours… didn’t do much.” He yawned, prompting Castiel to do the same. “You’re in Albuquerque?”

“We are. Could you check if Dean is still at that hotel?”

Castiel looked over at Sam when he heard him stir awake. “Kevin,” he mouthed when he caught Sam’s inquiring look on him, putting the call on speaker. They listened in as the prophet prepared the ritual and mumbled the incantation.

“The map’s burning up… and yup, Dean still hasn’t moved. What now?”

Castiel shrugged, his eyes still on the hunter next to him. “I don’t know. I guess we wait and hope to catch sight of him when he leaves.”

“How?” Sam asked. “We don’t even know who or what we should be looking for… hey, Kevin? You think you could find the hotel’s floor plans?”

“Huh… I don’t know, maybe.” The clicking of the prophet’s fingers on the keyboard echoed through the phone speaker. “Damn, that friend of yours really made it easy for you guys to hack your way into anything, didn’t she?” he said after a while, audibly impressed.

Castiel smiled when he saw the fondness on Sam’s features. “Yeah… Charlie’s a genius. Found the floor plans?”

“I did, printing them up right now. I’m really hoping we won’t have to do this spell many more times because I’m about to run out of some of the stuff.”

“I know a shop not too far from the bunker, I’ll tell you if need be,” Sam provided. “But if you’re able to tell us exactly which room is Dean’s, then you shouldn’t need to do this again.”

“If this thing worked like it should, better get it there right now; the spell puts him in the lobby.”

“Thanks, Kevin,” Sam said, already stepping out of the car to reach the trunk. “It’d be better if we did the FBI thing, but we don’t have time to change. Not if he’s on his way out,” he explained when Castiel caught up to him. He took the gun Sam handed him, sliding it in the back of his pants. “It’s pretty early, it should be easy enough to find him.”

As expected, there weren’t many people on the hotel’s first floor. Castiel went down the couple of stairs to head for the front desk, only to be stopped by Sam calling to him. He turned around to see the hunter pointing at something in the lobby cafe. 

No, not something; someone.

Even with his back turned to them, Castiel knew who they were looking at. Rage started simmering low in his gut and he clenched his fist, trying to fight the desire to murder him on the spot. In a silent agreement, he and Sam walked to the table and sat on either side of the man. He didn’t seem surprised to see them.

“Oh… hello there, Moose… Feathers… took you long enough to find me.”

“Crowley… how are you not dead?” Sam said in a hiss. “I killed you,” he added, making sure the barista couldn’t hear him.

“What you killed was the demon, Sam. You cured me, don’t you remember that?”

“So what? You’re human now?”

Instead of answering, Crowley snapped his fingers and swirled a finger in the air. A moment later, a waiter was dropping coffees in front of Sam and Castiel. Before they could speak again, the former King of Hell produced a flask and added some amber liquid in the cups.

“To being human,” he proclaimed, raising his cup before downing its content. He let out a pleased sigh and smirked. “I’m sure you must have questions. What do you say we go up to my room? And bring your coffees, yeah?”

Not bothering to wait for them, Crowley got up to reach the elevators. Both men followed, catching up to him when the doors opened. Not another word was uttered until the door of Crowley’s room closed on them.

“Where’s my brother?” Sam said, already with the former demon’s shirt and tie bunched up in his fist. Although getting in Crowley’s face wouldn’t be the best way to get answers, Castiel could feel his own body tingle at the thought of beating the crap out of him. That feeling grew exponentially when he noticed the man’s smug expression.

“Hey, now, Moosie, lay off the suit, would you? I’ll answer your questions, no need to get all huffy and puffy!”

With some kind of growl, Sam let the man go by pushing him back. As the shorter man found his footing, Sam made sure to stand between him and the door. Chuckling, Crowley walked to the kitchenette. “I see you left your coffees downstairs. Can I offer you something a little stronger? Scotch, maybe?” he said, already unscrewing a bottle that sat on the counter. “I could also have food brought up if you prefer. You must be hungry.”

He poured a couple of fingers in three tumblers he brought into the living area. “Come on, sit… I promise, I don’t intend to leave.” He took place in the armchair, leaving the sofa for them to sit on. “Pretty sure I couldn’t outrun you anyway. Being a demon didn’t really call for keeping in shape, if you know what I mean.”

After making sure the latch on the door was secure, Sam came to sit next to Cas on the sofa.

“Where’s Dean?” Sam asked again.

Crowley let his gaze glide over Sam’s borrowed body. “No need to worry about your brother, he’s safe. Tell me about you, how are you… adapting?”

“I’m not here to chat, Crowley! Tell me where Dean is! Now!”

The former demon was about to answer when something caught Castiel’s attention, the morning light catching onto something sparkly. He then noticed a golden medallion, partly hidden behind Crowley’s black tie. He couldn’t take his eyes off the gem at the center of it, his head spinning with unattainable knowledge. Only when the light caught onto it again did he finally understand what he was looking at.

“I know where Dean’s soul is,” he said, pointing at the jewelry on Crowley’s chest. “He’s trapped in the opal!”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is found and Crowley’s in trouble…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I don’t have much to say today… inspiration is not my friend. Lets just hope it comes back soon, I don’t have that many chapters already written, wouldn’t want to make you wait!
> 
> Anyway, here’s one, I hope you’ll like it.
> 
> See you again next Monday! xx

“Dean’s soul is in the necklace around his neck,” Castiel said. “I’d recognize it anywhere.” 

The next second, Sam’s hands were pulling on the medallion. Crowley’s body followed, until the chain broke, making him fall backward on his seat. 

The former King got to his feet and in Sam’s face. “Give him back! He’s mine!” he yelled, his voice reeking of desperation. 

Sam’s mouth pursed with disgust as his fist flew to Crowley’s face. Rather than retaliating, the ex-demon fell to the floor with a pained squeal. Sam was about to hit him again when Castiel intervened, getting between the two of them. 

“Sam, stop!” He’s human!” 

“So? It’s still Crowley. He’s evil.” 

“I’m not, you sodding giant, you bloody made sure of that!” He wiped the blood dripping from his nose with the back of his hand. “Your brother asked for my help, and I gladly did it. I owed him as much.”

Neither hunters paid him any mind, caught in a silent battle of wills. As he held Sam’s angry gaze, Castiel couldn’t help but be reminded of all those times he and Dean would lock eyes. It wasn’t always in order to make the other one back down; sometimes they would just look at each other, caught up in silent conversations nobody else would ever be able to understand.

Sam eventually rolled his eyes and huffed before sitting back down on the sofa. Not that he thought Sam was entirely wrong, but Castiel still hoped a human Crowley could be half decent. He hadn’t tried to hide from them, after all. Not really.

He turned to face Crowley, making sure to stay between him and Sam. “What’s in it for you?” 

Instead of answering, Crowley chose to empty his glass in one huge gulp. He kept the tumbler in his hands, fiddling with it as he cleared his throat.

“Atonement,” he eventually said. 

Castiel could hear Sam fidget behind him, cracking his knuckles and huffing.

“Why the necklace? And why was Sam left to die in the woods?” 

With a shrug, Crowley looked up to meet the ex-angel’s blue gaze. Castiel’s breath hitch in his throat when he recognize the sorrow in there.

“I didn’t know about Sam, I swear. I told Dean it was a bad idea, still he had to do his own thing, go out and do the ritual by himself. Never even bothered to tell me where he was going.” He wiggled his glass and got to his feet, sending a worried glance toward Sam.

“Sit!” Castiel ordered before giving him his own untouched glass. “Go on.”

“Dean—he believed his soul would be taking Sam’s place in hell. Except I couldn’t have that, you know? Dean doesn’t deserve to be in Hell. No more than Sam does.”

“How were you even able to do this. Hell’s doors are closed,” Sam said. Castiel turned to see him now looking more interested than mad, so he went and sat back on the sofa.

“My mother was a witch, and I was the King of Hell. I know things.”

“I doubt that my brother wanted to be stuck in a necklace, Crowley!”

“Of course he didn’t. I added a little something to the spell to make sure he wouldn’t go to Hell… thus the necklace.” 

With both his hands in his – short – hair, Sam sighed. “Why didn’t you just have me bound to the necklace, then?” 

“That was my first idea, but Dean wouldn’t have it. And if I had tricked him so you would, he would have no doubt killed me.” Crowley’s eyes caught on the medallion still clasped in Sam’s hand. “I told you everything. Can you give him back to me now?” 

“No!” 

“You don’t even know how to free him.” 

When Sam got up again to grab Crowley by the arm and pull him up, Castiel didn’t feel the need to intervene, not caring that the hunter may end up breaking said arm. He did his best to push the satisfying thought down. 

“You’re coming with us,” Sam said in a low growl. “You’re only getting your hands on it when it’s time to free him. Until then, your ass is ours.”

◊—◊—◊

They had only been on the road for half an hour when Sam swerved on the shoulder to stop the car. Castiel didn’t have time to ask what was going on that the hunter shoved the medallion at him.

“You take it… I can’t anymore,” he said in a shaky voice.

“I can take it,” Crowley said from the backseat, neither men paying attention to him.

The necklace felt warm in Castiel’s palm. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. It’s like… it’s buzzing and making me all sorts of anxious.” He took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think—I think the soul recognizes its body and it’s—all I feel is this eagerness… I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“I think it makes sense,” Castiel said as he held the medallion closer to Sam, making the man cower back. “Wow… okay, even I can feel it. I’ll make sure to keep him far from you.”

While Sam got back on the road, Castiel tried to think about what to do with the medallion. With the chain broken, he couldn’t wear it around his neck, which would be the best way to keep it safe. “We’ll have to stop and have the chain repaired,” he said.

“The chain isn’t important, the medallion is,” Crowley provided, making Castiel turn around. “You could use a shoelace and it wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Dean deserves better than a damn shoelace,” Sam grumbled.

After fiddling with the chain for a little while, Castiel let out a small triumphant grunt. “No need for repairs, I fixed it,” he said, wrapping the chain around his neck and securing the clasp to the first unbroken link. He moved it around so the medallion would sit on his chest. It was a little high up, thanks to the missing section of chain, but Castiel didn’t mind it. He smiled.

“I can feel Dean’s soul settling down. The medallion is getting warmer on my chest.”

“Warmer?”

“Yes… almost feels like a hug.”

From the corner of his eye, Castiel saw Sam smile. “Must be that profound bond thing,” the hunter said while Crowley huffed on the backseat. “Got something to say?” Sam asked the former demon.

“Dean also felt warm on my chest, you know? We must have a profound bond as well.” When Castiel turned around to scowl at him, the demon met his gaze. “We were close, Dean and I. We talked on the phone. All. The. Time. He told me things I’m sure he would never have told you.” He paused, defiant. “Bet you’d like to know what he’s been telling me, wouldn’t you?”

“Would you tell me if I asked?”

As Castiel had expected, Crowley didn’t respond and shifted his attention to the side window. Demon or not, cruelty was an integral part of his personality. And because of this, he’d never be able to find the peace he claimed he was looking for, or so Castiel believed.

“Don’t let him rile you up,” Sam said in a low voice. “And anyway, he’s lying. There’s no way Dean could have been all that chummy with him. He only wanted him to get me out of Hell”

“Even as a demon, I wouldn’t lie, Moose,” Crowley quipped. “The truth is often more difficult to hear than the most elaborate of lies.” He leaned forward to catch Castiel’s gaze again, a bitter smile on his lips. “Only I could help him, and he knew that. You and I, Feathers, we’re on an even playing field now… and I’m better than you. More powerful. Useful.”

“Shut the fuck up, Crowley. And sit back before I decide to lock you up in the trunk.”

“No need to get your knickers in a twist, Moose,” Crowley said as he complied. “I said all I needed to say. Just wake me up when we get there.”

“You okay, Cas?” Sam asked as he extended a hand toward the passenger side, aborting the movement halfway. Castiel nodded, his eyes fixated on Sam’s hand – Dean’s hand. He felt his skin tingle at the thought of touching it. In turn, the jewelry on his chest got warmer.

“I’m good,” Castiel answered as his hand went up to hold onto the medallion. “We’re good.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now who thought it’d be a good idea to have Kevin and Crowley under the same roof?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m hoping you guys read either the tags, or the notes… maybe you even read both.
> 
> As I prepared for posting this new chapter, I realized I had forgotten to tag something. Which sucks because it’s something that’s been planned from the very start, so I don’t even have the excuse of saying that whatever’s happening here "sprung" on me. I honestly hope it won’t deter you from reading.
> 
> Not to worry, it’s not a major character death or anything that could have been in the "Archive Warning" category either. But the imagery, although I didn’t overly describe whatever might have happened, could irk you. I’m sorry about that.
> 
> What I added were: "Implied/Referenced Character Death" and "Minor Character Death". 
> 
> I myself find that plot point (is it even a plot point?) just… very sad. Needed a bit of drama, I guess so it was on purpose to have something sad. 
> 
> Thank you for reading (if you don’t decide to turn away), and don’t hesitate if you want to drop a line… I love to hear from you!! :D See you again Thursday.
> 
> .

“You can’t be serious!” Kevin repeated louder, pacing around in war room. “That monster snapped my girlfriend’s neck, he tortured me. Damn it, guys! He killed my mom!”

Busy looking at their own feet, neither Castiel nor Sam had time to react when Kevin jumped on Crowley. He may have been smaller and younger than the both of them, it still took some time to unlatch the prophet’s hands from Crowley’s throat.

“Let me go!” Kevin screamed. Castiel’s arms locked around him while Sam held the former demon up as he struggled to breathe.

“He’s human, Kevin. You can’t just kill him, all right?” Castiel said as his friend tried to wiggle his way out of his hold.

“No he’s not! You said he’s a witch! He doesn’t deserve to live!” 

The teen’s voice had gone weak at those last words. When he started to sniffle, Castiel relaxed his arms, keeping them around his friend in an attempt to comfort him. When Kevin spoke again, it was in a rough and low tone. 

“Let me go… please. I—I won’t attack him again.” 

Castiel complied, watching the teen leave the war room with his shoulders slumped. He then turned to check on Crowley, whose face had been regaining some colors. 

“Water”, he croaked, a hand wrapped around his throat. 

Rather than responding to the former king’s demand, Sam turned to Castiel. “So… what do we do with him?”

“We could lock him up in the dungeon,” Castiel said, satisfied by the hint of fear in Crowley’s eyes. “But he’s human now, which means he’ll have to eat, sleep, and use the bathroom.”

“So what, we give him a room? Who says he won’t just run away the minute we look the other way?”

“I won’t, I swear,” Crowley said, his voice still scratchy.

“Shut up!” the men said at once. Sam dropped a heavy hand on Crowley’s shoulder, making him flinch. “Let’s go with the room, then. I’ll switch the doorknob around so we can lock it from the outside.”

Castiel nodded, liking the idea. “And make sure there’s nothing in there he can use to do any kind of magic.”

While Sam went and took care of their prisoner’s accommodations, Castiel pushed Crowley toward the kitchen and onto a chair. He grabbed a bottle of water and a beer from the fridge, making Crowley flinch again when he slammed the water in front of him.

Sipping on his beer, Castiel sat down, his eyes never leaving the ex-demon.

“What?” Crowley spat after downing half of his water. “What more could you ever want from me? I got nothing.”

“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

Crowley shrugged. “Well, I do have money… loads of it. I’ll give it all to you if you let me go.”

The offer was enough to elicit some chuckles in the former angel. He only shook his head, Crowley’s desperate attempt at swaying him not even worthy of a response.

Not another word was spoken until Sam came in to announce the room was ready. If Castiel had thought the rooms were bare before, it was nothing compared to what Sam had prepared. What would now be Crowley’s cell solely comprised of a bed, a sink – still there because it was bolted to the wall – and what looked like—

“Is this a chamber pot?” he asked Sam who nodded, a smug smile on his face.

“This is appalling!” Crowley said, looking right about to explode. “May I remind you that all these years, I could just have killed you all? And that I didn’t? I even helped you clean up some of your messes.”

Sam grinned and waved at the bed. “Which is why you’re getting a room with a bed. We could always set you up in the dungeon if you prefer.”

With a disdainful sniffle, the former king went to sit on the mattress, holding his chin high. “I’ve literally inhabited Hell for centuries. I think I can make due with a small squeaky bed and a chamber pot. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be left alone.”

Without waiting for an answer, the man lied down on the bed with his back turned. Sam guided Castiel outside the room with a hand on the small of his back. “We’ll bring you dinner later,” he said, closing the door and locking it.

As they made their way back to the kitchen, Castiel hissed and Sam’s hand immediately disappeared from Castiel’s back.

“The medallion…” he only said when he met Sam’s eyes, not wanting to explain how it had felt like a lightning bolt running through his back all the way to his collar bone.

“Yeah… I’m sorry, I’ll be careful,” Sam promised before turning around. Castiel kept going, walking past the kitchen without stopping to go sit in the library. Convinced the prophet had gone back to his room, he quirked an eyebrow when he saw him sitting there.

Kevin only looked up for a second before getting back into his book. The hurt in there had been enough for Castiel to know that trying to start a conversation wouldn’t be welcomed. So he sat at the table to look at the piles of books on the table. Before he could choose one to read, a notebook landed in front of him.

“This is what I’ve been doing,” Kevin said. “Everything that’s happened in the last four months and looks like angel business is listed in there.” 

Castiel started flipping through it. Pages and pages of events with dates and locations highlighted in different colors.

“I color-coded everything,” he explained before Castiel could even ask. “The events in green are angel deaths, with traces of wings and everything. In pink, that’s the humans who had their eyes burned out.” He cleared his throat, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Everything else, it’s people who disappeared. I highlighted the names of people that we know were big with the faith thing. Who knows, they might have offered themselves as vessels.”

“That’s tremendous work, Kevin.” Castiel looked up and smiled. “This is going to be so helpful.” He glanced to the side where he noticed the tablet popping out from under a heap of paper. “What about the tablet? Were you able to get anything from it?”

The teen shrugged. “I had to stop, man. It hurt so bad… that’s why I did the list, it relaxed me.”

“Did you run out of medecine?”

Taking the tablet from under the pile, Kevin shook his head. “Meds don’t do any good. It’s this thing that’s giving me migraines. It wasn’t meant to be read, Cas. Not by me, nor by anyone else.”

Castiel sighed, hating the thought of having to insist. He remembered that day, before the trials, before Metatron stole his grace, the prophet cowering in fear under his commanding gaze. He knew he could probably still scare the prophet, but he hoped to god he wouldn’t have to.

“Don’t worry, I got the message loud and clear before,” Kevin added under his breath. “I’m a Prophet of the Lord, always and forever, until I cease to exist and another prophet takes my place.” The smile he offered Castiel never reached his eyes. “Now, please let me work.”

Half apologetic, Castiel nodded and got to his feet, holding the notebook over his chest. He left the library, running into Sam as he turned the corner to the bedrooms hallway. As they both jumped back, Castiel could have sworn he heard the electricity crackling between them.

“Okay… no chest bumps,” Sam said in a stammer.

Mouth agape, Castiel could only nod, unable to look away from those green eyes. Sam’s gaze dropped from Castiel’s eyes to his lips, then to his chest. “What’s this?”

Castiel had to look down to remember about the notebook he’d been holding. He decided to ignore the fact that the medallion had still jolted, even hidden under the book. “Oh… Kevin took notes, about angel related stuff. I was on my way to show it to you. Kitchen?”

He didn’t wait before turning around and leading the way. He could hear Sam following a couple of paces behind him, probably not wanting to get too close again. They sat each on their side of the table, far enough that not even their shoes could touch by accident.

“Before you start,” Sam said in a low voice, keeping an eye on the doorway. “I talked to Crowley just now… he told me he lied about Linda. Kevin’s mom?”

Castiel nodded, prompting his friend to continue.

“He told Kevin he’d killed her, but he didn’t. He was holding her and a couple of others prisoner in a storage unit.”

“So she’s alive?”

Sam wouldn’t have had to say a word for Castiel to understand. “He had demons guarding them, but every last demon was sent back to Hell over four months ago, Cas… which means nobody even knew there were people locked up in there. And if she’d gotten out, she would have reached out to us, or Kevin.”

“Okay… what now?”

“I say we go to Wichita and hope she’s still alive.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite an old friend’s tragic demise, Sam and Castiel start believing there might be a bit of hope ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s the one… that’s the chapter that needed to have tags added. Although the last chapter kind of hinted about what you’re about to read, I would imagine that getting the confirmation is what might get you. I know it got me, and I wrote the darn thing. Even if it saddens me, I really felt that this is how things might have happened if the story had unfolded the way I wrote it. 
> 
> All I can promise is that we’ll revisit this particular event in the future. Not telling you why or how, but it can’t be left like that.
> 
> Anyway… that’s all I gotta say for now. I hope you’ll "enjoy" this next chapter. See you again next Monday, and thanks for reading and kudo-ing and commenting…
> 
>  
> 
> .

“After Wichita, we should drive to Topeka.”

All that came from Sam was a noncommittal grunt. Castiel glanced up, wondering why Sam wasn’t being more vocal to see it had started raining – no, pouring! They’d only been on the road for thirty minutes and Sam already looked exhausted from driving.

“Maybe we should go back and leave in the morning instead,” he suggested.

“I’m fine,” Sam answered, his tight jaw and white knuckles undermining his confident response. Castiel didn’t insist, going back to read Kevin’s notebook instead. Choosing Topeka out of every written events had only been a matter of proximity.

It took almost four hours to drive up to the Wichita storage facility. Sam’s arm got drenched when he rolled his window down to punch a code on the keypad. The gate opened, making both men exhale in relief; they wouldn’t have been surprised to learn Crowley had been lying to them. And, to some extent, Castiel kind of hoped he would have been. If not, it meant Linda was indeed—

“Are you coming?” 

Castiel was startled by Sam opening the passenger door. He met his concerned stare and nodded, getting out of the vehicle to run behind his friend toward the door. Again, the code Crowley had given Sam worked, the buzzing of the door being unlocked resonating in the still night.

“Crowley said the storage units are on the other side of the building,” Sam explained as he turned on the first set of overhead lights. 

The clicks of the light timers followed them as they made their way through the meandering halls, until they reached the bigger units. The sight of three garage size doors, all shut and padlocked, left a sinister impression on Castiel. He knew what they would find beyond those doors, and Sam probably knew it too.

“Unit 39,” Sam said under his breath as he walked to the door in the middle, jiggling Crowley’s keys as he searched for the right one. The snap of the lock unlatching sent shivers down Castiel’s spine. He stayed back, not needing to see to know what they had found; the smell was enough.

Hiding his face in the crook of his elbow, Sam turned on the lights and walked inside. He came back out immediately, livid as a ghost. Overcome by grief, Castiel felt the medallion humming on his chest. He wrapped a hand around it, unable at this time to tell who was trying to comfort whom.

Without a word, Sam shut the door again to lean his back against it and sag to the floor. “Fuck!” he yelled, punching the metal door before hiding his face in his hands. Castiel stayed where he stood, torn to not be able to go to the hunter and comfort him. If he tried, it’d only make Dean’s soul restless, which would make Sam even more anxious… all but helpful.

“Do you want me to check the other units?”

“What the point?” Sam said after a beat, letting his hands fall to his lap. “They’ll be just as dead as she is.”

Castiel nodded and came forward to sit on the floor, far enough for Dean’s soul to stay put. Sam lifted his gaze, only meeting Castiel’s eyes for a fraction of a second before dropping to the hand Castiel still had clasped around the jewel.

“What now?” Castiel asked, not wanting to address his friend’s questioning gaze. “Do we call the police? Bring them back to the bunker?”

Sam shook his head. “No police, that’s for damn sure. Not right now, anyway.” He got to his feet and brushed off the dirt from his pants. “We still have to find a way to get Dean out of that thing,” he added, pointing as Castiel’s chest. “I say we leave them here… not for long, I swear. As soon as we can, we’ll bring Linda back to the bunker and help Kevin give her a proper hunter’s funeral.”

“And what about the others?”

“We’ll call the cops… let them deal with finding their families.”

◊—◊—◊

It was Castiel who drove from Wichita to Topeka. Luckily, the rain had stopped and they made their way in a little over three hours. Both tired, they decided to rent a room and take a nap before starting their investigation. Didn’t matter that they hardly slept, it still felt nice to take a load off and numb themselves with bad TV.

When they walked in the precinct around ten that morning, both men looked like they hadn’t slept for days. Which, as far as Castiel was concerned, was pretty much the truth. They looked bad enough for the constable at the front desk to give them a suspicious once over before telling them to sit and wait. 

“I’ll let the sheriff know you’d like to see him,” the woman said, waiting for them to comply before picking up the phone. “It might take a little while,” she added after hanging up. “If you want, there’s a coffee machine over there.”

She didn’t have to say another word for Sam to get up, almost running in the direction she had pointed. He came back a couple of minutes later with a cup in each hand and sat back down, handing one of the coffees to Castiel.

“Thanks.” 

Castiel couldn’t help but hum in delight at the first sip. Didn’t matter that the concoction looked pretty diluted, it was warm and had enough of a coffee taste. They had time to drink it all before a blond woman came to stand before them, extending a hand in greeting. Only when she shook Castiel’s did her amicable expression morph into one of surprise.

She let Castiel’s hand go as if it had burned her. “Follow me,” she hissed, leading the way to an office nearby. She held the door, inviting them to come in and sit. After shutting the door, she went and sat on the other side of the desk, frowning.

Before either men could speak, she locked eyes with Castiel. “Castiel, brother. I was lead to believe that you were dead.”

In a synchronized movement, the men stood up, ready to bolt. Or attack. Maybe both.

“No need to worry, Castiel. I won’t hurt you, please sit down.” She looked at Sam, tilting her head and squinting her eyes. “I’d say you’re Dean Winchester, except… you’re not really him, are you? I can see how the soul and body are… hmm… unmatched.”

“Who are you?”

Looking back at Castiel, the woman gave him a soft smile. “It’s me, Muriel. It’s been eons, brother.”

“It has.” Castiel cleared his throat. If it had been any other angel sitting in front of him, he could have believe that they were the one doing the killings. But he knew Muriel, and there was no way she could ever be guilty of such a massacre.

“Do you know what’s been happening? All that angel violence… it doesn’t make much sense.”

“I wouldn’t say it doesn’t make sense,” Muriel countered with a sigh. “Although I do my best to stay clear of it all, I’ve heard some chatter about angels being at war. Two feuding armys, each led by Malachi and Bartholomew, both vying to replace our Father and save the angels… or so they claim.”

“And which side are you on?” Sam asked, the disdain apparent on his face.

“Neither,” she responded, her eyes fixated on her clasped hands. “I don’t believe either one capable of leading us back to Heaven.” When she looked up again, it was to send Castiel a watery gaze. “Why did you do it, Castiel? What purpose did you wish to achieve in associating yourself with that vermine?”

“I was tricked, Muriel. I helped Metatron because I believed we’d be closing the doors of Heaven with everyone locked in. We’ve been in disarray for far too long, we needed to regroup, talk things through and find a common goal. After Raphael, and Michael, and—”

“You made that mistake before, Castiel; thinking you had to fix everything. Where did that get you, huh? And where did it get you now?”

Sheepish, the former angel averted her too kind eyes. “I know. I was prideful, and naive.”

When Sam spoke again, his tone was harsh. “What’s done is done, all right? No need to go all preachy on the guy. Can you help us or not?”

It took far too long for the angel to answer. “No.”

“Why not?”

Castiel looked up again, the urge of taking Sam’s hand stronger than ever. “Sam… it’s all right, she doesn’t have to get involved.” He smiled at Muriel. “Do you know anyone who’d be willing to help us? We need to deal with Sam and Dean’s situation, and for that we have to defeat Metatron and regain access to Heaven. I don’t have my grace anymore, we need someone powerful.”

Chewing on her lower lip, Muriel again took some time to respond.

“Try calling upon Hannah. The word is she’s recruiting her own army to take down Metatron.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah is the powerful one, and she knows it…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I should warn you about this chapter, and the next one too. Believe me, I didn’t hate Hannah, not at all. Still, in this story, I gave her a much different path than the one in canon. She never gets healed by Castiel and, in such, the roots of their relationship are very different.
> 
> No worries, my goal is not to change the core of the characters. Still, there has to be some differences in the way they interact with each other, or why.
> 
> I hope you’ll like this little deviation from canon (well… I did say it’s an alternate season 9… has to be expected I guess).
> 
> Thanks a lot for reading, and I hope to see again Thursday! :D

Castiel and Sam didn’t need to discuss much before deciding not to go back to the bunker. While Sam drove back to the motel, Castiel prayed to Hannah out loud. Sam chuckled when his friend ended the prayer with his cell phone number.

“I don’t see how else she could reach me,” he explained, unable to find the humor in the situation. “I’m pretty sure her wings got damaged during the fall, she couldn’t fly to us. If she found a vessel, she might have a phone.”

As if to confirm Castiel’s theory, his cell rang at that same moment. He answered, making sure to put it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Castiel. You’re not dead.”

“Is this Hannah?”

“It is. Why did you pray to me?”

Castiel gulped, wondering if trying to get an angel to help was a good idea after all. He didn’t know much about Hannah, only that she was far younger than he was. It wouldn’t be too far fetched to think she also held him responsible for the Fall and couldn’t wait to make him pay.

“I’d rather we talked in person. Where are you?”

“Minnesota, near Minneapolis. You?”

Before Castiel could answer, Sam brought a finger to his own lips, then took the lead. “Hello, Hannah. Sam Winchester here. We’re about ten hours from you. We could meet in Des Moines, Iowa, which is about half way for either of us. Can you do this?”

“Sam Winchester… the demon boy. And you expect me to trust you, Castiel?”

“There’s no more demon in Sam Winchester than there is in you or I, Hannah. All demons were banished from Earth, I’m sure you know this. That was Sam’s doing.”

They heard the angel huff, obviously not letting Sam’s exploits impress her. “I can meet you in Des Moines, if you so wish. Is there a particular place I should get to?”

“We’ll call you back later to let you know,” Sam said, pointing his chin at the device. Castiel hung up without another word and put back the phone in his pocket as Sam drove into a parking lot to turn back around. They wouldn’t be stopping after all.

“Do you really think Hannah could be an ally?” Sam asked after some time, making the ex-angel shrug.

“I honestly have no idea. I’ve heard of her, but that’s about it. Never fought together, never even met her. It could go either way, I’m afraid. I do know Muriel enough to believe she sent us to someone who could actually help, though.”

Sam nodded. “If you say so… I think we should meet her somewhere that’s public, but still isolated. No need to put civilians in danger, is there?”

“I agree.”

It was dusk when Sam parked at the rest stop where they’d agreed to meet Hannah. Their car being the only one, they were pretty confident to have arrived first. They made their way to the picnic tables behind the restroom facilities, each hiding an angel blade on their lap.

They didn’t have to wait long to see a battered Honda park next to the Continental. A tall brunette got out, her eyes fixated on the two men waiting in the shadows. As she came forward, her own angel blade fell into her hand, prompting Sam and Castiel to stand and make sure she knew they too were armed. She stopped.

“Are you here to kill me, Castiel?” she asked, her eyes squinted.

“No, why? Are you?” Castiel asked right back, knowing he had a target painted on his back.

After a long minute of mutual suspicious glares, weapons were; nobody seemed to be in a killing mood. Still prudent, Hannah came forward to sit at the table, with Sam and Castiel sitting back down.

“We are going to reclaim Heaven,” she said before either men could speak. “I have it on good authority that whatever power is behind Metatron’s apparent omnipotence is fake and destructible. Should I worry about you standing in our way when we take back what’s ours?” she asked, scowling at Castiel.

“Of course not. I want to help in any way I can. We’ve been looking for a way to reverse the spell. Well, actually, Kevin has been working on translating the angel tabl—ow!”

Castiel turned to Sam after being kicked in the shin. Before he could ask him what was wrong, he saw his friend’s eyes widen. He turned to see Hannah with her blade in hand again, pointing it at them.

“Kevin? You mean the prophet, Kevin Tran? He has the angel tablet?”

His eyes on the weapon, Castiel nodded. “We do have it, yes. He’s the prophet, it’s his birthright.”

“Bring me to them.”

“No way!” Sam spat as he jumped to his feet. In the blink of an eye, Hannah appeared standing behind him with her blade on his throat.

“Let him go,” Castiel said, his hands up in a placating manner. “We’re not your enemies, Hannah. All we want is help you get back home.”

“You can’t be trusted, Castiel. Not after all you’ve done.” She glanced at Sam, a look of disgust on her face. “We all know you are very fond of those Winchester boys, for whatever reason. Lead me to the tablet and I promise to spare his life.”

Even before she started threatening him, Castiel knew he’d be complying to any of her demands. It didn’t matter that Sam silently tried to convince him not to budge. He averted his friend’s eyes and nodded at Hannah, leading the way to their car. He sat behind the wheel while Hannah pushed Sam in the backseat and took place beside him.

“You try anything and your boy bleeds to death,” she said, once more holding her blade over Sam’s neck. “Take me to the prophet.”

Without a word, Castiel obeyed, leaving the rest stop to embark on the Interstate. Getting back on the road wasn’t something either he or Sam had expected to happen so soon. They were supposed to take a nap in the car before going back to Lebanon.

After driving for about two hours, Castiel felt about to pass out from exhaustion. Behind him, Sam didn’t look much better, his eyelids drooping. Hannah’s blade on his neck was the only thing keeping somewhat alert.

“Hannah,” Castiel said after yawning repeatedly. “If we don’t stop, I’ll fall asleep at the wheel. You wouldn’t want that.”

“How far is the prophet still?”

“Another five hours, give and take,” Sam answered. “Unless you wanna drive?”

“If I drive, I’ll be vulnerable for you to attack me.”

“Well… can you… you know,” Sam tried, pointing a finger at Castiel and making a zapping noise. “Make him not so tired anymore?”

Hannah took a second to think. “I could do that.”

As a former angel, Castiel had never been on the receiving end of healing grace. Hannah’s started running through him, reminding him of his own former celestial glory.

“Cas!”

Sam screaming his name startled Castiel. He opened his eyes to see he’d been drifting into oncoming traffic. He swerved back in their lane just in time, the driver of the pick-up truck he almost rammed into yelling and hitting the horn.

“Sorry,” he said before catching Hannah’s gaze in the rearview mirror. “If you need to do this again to someone that’s driving, you might wanna ask them to stop first,” he explained.

They made their way back to Lebanon without any more incidents. The last hour or so, Hannah had even leaned back on the side door, making sure they knew that her blade was still pointed at Sam. After parking in the bunker’s garage, Castiel turned to Hannah.

“We don’t intend on attacking you, Hannah,” he said, keeping an eye on the blade she still held. “I believe it’ll be easier for us to collaborate if you start trusting us.”

When Sam spoke, he turned a bit to face Hannah. “And it might be easier on Kevin to not feel threatened. He’s already having enough difficulties with the tablet as it is.”

“What do you mean?”

“The tablet is apparently very hard to read, even for Kevin. He gets migraines, nausea…” Castiel provided, turning the engine off. “I’m worried it might be killing him.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many things Hannah can’t understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends!! This one almost didn’t happen (busy as a bee), but I couldn’t bare the thought of letting you guys down. Especially since we’re getting closer to the end. Well, there are 7 or 8 chapters still to go after this one, but you know… still closer to the end than we are to the start.
> 
> As I said last time, I know Hannah seem a bit OOC from what we’ve seen on the show. Let’s just say I gave her some "responsibilities" she didn’t have before, so that might have an incidence on her character. As I was saying, her relationship with Cas is totally different this time around, which may help explaining their interactions.
> 
> I hope you guys like it… thanks for reading, and don’t hesitate to let me know what you think! See you again next Monday! :-D

Finding the library and war room devoid of the prophet’s presence was enough to make Castiel nervous. It didn’t matter that Kevin had promised he’d leave Crowley alone, he could still have decided to get even with the ex-demon while they were out.

Still not trusting them, Hannah insisted to follow him and Sam as they looked for the prophet. Sam knocked and unlocked Crowley’s door to peer inside, letting out a relieved breath when he saw him sprawled on his bed, snoring. Castiel moved to stand between the door and the shocked angel to dissuade her from wasting the former King.

“He’s human now,” he explained in a low voice while Sam locked the door again. “We’ll need him to reverse the spell once Heaven opens up again.”

“Kevin Tran,” Hannah only answered through her tight jaw. Clearly, she couldn’t care less about what happened to the Winchesters. Castiel nodded and lead the way toward the prophet’s bedroom. He took a deep breath before knocking, still nervous that maybe he had been right in saying the tablet was killing him.

“Wha’?” they heard, Kevin’s voice muffled by the closed door.

Before either men could stop her, Hannah rushed passed them to enter the room, her blade drawn up. It was enough for the sleepy teen to yelp and fall off his bed as he cowered back.

“What the fuck?” he yelled when he saw Sam and Castiel following behind the angel. “Who the hell is this?”

“My name is Hannah, I am an angel of the Lord.”

Kevin’s expression turned ferocious. “Yeah? So?”

“You are Kevin Tran, the prophet, and I am told that you have the angel tablet in your possession. I need you to translate it. Now!”

While Hannah spoke, Kevin stayed sprawled on the floor, a leg still hoped on the mattress. He swallowed with a click before speaking again. “Can I at least get up and get dressed?”

“Hannah,” Castiel finally intervened, “I thought we weren’t going to scare the prophet. Plus, I think it would be beneficial if he got a full night of sleep.”

“May I remind you that angels are dying, Castiel? And humans too… there’s no time for sleeping.”

While Kevin went to take a quick shower, Hannah made sure to keep an eye on him while Sam and Castiel stood in the hall. The foursome then went to the kitchen where Sam prepared coffee and grabbed Dean’s box of toaster pastries.

“I believe you should be able to drink and eat while you work,” Hannah said when Kevin went to sit at the kitchen table. He aborted the movement, letting out a dispirited chuckle.

“Of course, I can,” he said as he grabbed the box and walked out of the kitchen. With Sam and Castiel not moving, Hannah hesitated for a second before following the prophet. 

“Don’t you try anything,” she warned as she left, making the men huff and roll their eyes.

“This is getting ridiculous,” Sam said, not bothering to lower his voice since Hannah would hear him anyway.

“I agree. I’m really sorry that Hannah can’t trust us due to my past actions.”

“She called me the demon boy, Cas… pretty sure she doesn’t trust me either.”

“Probably not.”

The coffee maker’s gurglings were all that could be heard for some time, until that stopped and Sam poured three cups of the hot liquid. “Do you think Hannah would like some?” he asked, making Castiel shrug.

“I’m not sure. Might as well bring her some, just in case.”

Sam nodded, grabbing an old wooden tray from one of the upper cabinets and wiping it clean before loading it with the mugs and fixins. He deposited it on the table where Kevin was already hard at work and munching on a cold pop-tart.

“Like I said,” Kevin started to say around his mouthful, “I’ve been able to translate some of it, but not to English. Even then, I’m not one hundred percent sure it’s accurate since I don’t understand Elamite myself.”

“I understand it,” Hannah provided, looking more relaxed already. She grabbed Kevin’s notes, ignoring the coffee Castiel tried to offer her. “I don’t drink,” she just said, her eyes fixated on the pages. “Is that all?” she then asked, looking back at the prophet.

“It’s only the first paragraph, if you can call it that. Took me a long time to translate, too. So, what you read, it makes sense?”

“It does, although it’s nothing I didn’t already know… angel commandments,” she added after Castiel gave her an expectant look. “Please translate the rest, Kevin Tran.”

The prophet sighed and extended a hand for Hannah to give him his notepad back.

“Is there any way we can help?” Castiel asked, glad to see the angel making her blade disappear.

Kevin shrugged. “I don’t see how, honestly.”

“How about I keep you company?” Sam said with a gentle smile, taking one of the numerous books on the table.

“As long as you don’t deter the prophet from his task, I will allow it,” Hannah said as she got up, tugging at Castiel’s arm to do the same. “I have questions for you, brother,” she added, pulling him to go sit in the war room so she could keep surveilling the others.

“What’s on your mind?” Castiel asked as he sat down. She did the same, making sure to be facing the library.

“Why did you do it, Castiel? Why did you help the scribe banish us from Heaven?”

Although the questions were similar to Rachel’s own, they didn’t come from a place of concern; Hannah’s tone was clipped and her gaze fiery.

It didn’t matter in the end since the answers would be the same. “That was not my intention, I assure you. He tricked me, led me to believe that we’d be closing the doors of Heaven with everyone inside, myself included.”

“Again… why, Castiel? How could you think that was a good idea?”

“I needed to do penance, Hannah… I still do. We’ve all been at a loss since Father’s disappearance, coming close to destroying all He’s built and holds dear.”

“You made mistakes.”

“I won’t ever deny this, but I wasn’t the only one. Raphael got greedy, Michael was too righteous, Uriel decided to walk down Lucifer’s path—”

“Because yourself weren’t righteous and greedy? You believed you were a God, Castiel, killing many of our brothers and sisters. I don’t see how you can sit there and dare pass judgement on them, you’re no better than they were. Yet, you wonder why I don’t trust you?”

It didn’t matter that Castiel had been telling himself the exact same things for the longest time, it still hurt to have someone else spew the truth at him. He lowered his head, incapable of looking his sister in the eye anymore.

“Not that it will change anything, but I expected to be killed once the door of Heaven had closed on us,” he said in a low, trembling voice. “And I had made my peace with that. Instead, I got a punishment far worse than death; I had my grace ripped out of me and was cast down to live as a human.”

“You don’t seem all that torn up about it.”

“How could you even begin to understand?” Castiel took a deep breath before meeting Hannah’s eyes again. “I was an angel, powerful, ageless… part of something so much bigger. Now, I’m powerless, mortal, forced to have feelings and failing to understand them.”

He glanced toward the library, letting his gaze wander over Dean’s body. When he got to his face, his breath hitched; Sam was looking back at him, a shy smile on his lips.

“You love this boy,” Hannah said after a while, startling him. 

He forced himself to look away. “I do love Sam and his brother very much. They’re my friends.”

“I heard things about you, Castiel. Never gave it much thought before now.” She sighed, drumming her fingers on the luminous surface of the table. “I wish I could say the Winchesters are to blame for who you’ve become, but they’re not. You’ve always been this way, haven’t you?”

“And what way is that?”

“No matter that you had wings and a halo, you never truly were an angel. Sympathizing with the humans the way you do, as if you were one of them… you’re very much broken, Castiel.”

“I may be broken, but at least I’m capable of original thoughts. How about you, Hannah? Can you say the same?”

“I believe I can, except unlike you, my loyalties are to my family.”

A smile appeared on his lips as Castiel lifted his head to look toward the library again, the sight of his two friends working making his heart beat faster. 

Hannah would never know how wrong she was.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angel, a prophet, and an ex-demon sitting together in a library… sounds like the beginning of a really bad joke!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the thought of all those people "working together"… okay… more like "in the same room at the same time."
> 
> Things are going forward, but if you want some real angst and feelings, you gotta wait until Thursday… You know, tingles, and prickling, and shivers, and purrs… There’ll be some of those next time.
> 
> I don’t know about you, but I’m getting real impatient for Dean to come back already. Damn him and his stupid sacrificial ideas!!!
> 
> I hope you’ll like it!! Thanks for reading and sharing your thoughts… if you want to, that is! ;-)
> 
> .

“I think you found something of grave importance,” Hannah said after going over Kevin’s latest work. He’d been at it for seven straight hours, managing to translate two whole paragraphs into Elamite. Now that he knew he’d been doing it right, it had become much easier.

“It speaks of an alternate way to access Heaven; fabricating some kind of backdoor, if you will.”

Castiel came to read over Hannah’s shoulder. “The scribe surely knows about that loophole. He’ll make sure we can’t use it.”

“He’s not God, he can’t be everywhere at once. All we need is for a willing soul to let us go through their Heaven.”

Castiel’s eyes met Sam’s briefly, and it was enough to know that they were both thinking the same thing. “We know someone who might agree to help,” Castiel said, sitting back on his chair.

Hannah looked at him, her brows furrowed. “You’re expecting me to trust yet another friend of yours?”

“He was a good man, Hannah… a formidable hunter. He will understand what’s at stake and help, I guarantee it.”

“Only if we’re the ones to ask,” Sam provided. “I know Bobby, he won’t help you if he has the slightest doubt about you. He won’t care that you’re an angel.”

Hannah squinted her eyes and pursed her lips. Before she could start argumenting, Castiel intervened, making sure to sound unequivocal enough.

“Bobby Singer is the best man for the job, Hannah. He knows the ways of this world and won’t need extensive explanations to do what we require of him.” He smiled, remembering the man he had come to know and appreciate. “And he is flawlessly loyal to the Winchesters.”

Castiel’s last argument seemed to work on the angel. Not that her overall demeanor changed, but she didn’t seem that eager to dispute their choice of ally anymore.

“Very well, if you insist. We shall communicate with this Bobby Singer and ask him for safe passage through his Heaven.”

Hannah leaned in to take Sam’s hand and closed her eyes. Castiel could only observe as she worked on opening a line of communication with the deceased hunter. He hated not being able to hear their conversation, certain Hannah wouldn’t bother bringing him in. 

He turned to see Kevin had left the library. The most surprising thing had to be that Hannah hadn’t stopped him, seeing how she considered sleep to be a waste of time.

With Hannah and Sam both looking deep in a trance, Castiel let himself look at his friend. With his eyes closed and his features relaxed, he could almost forget that Sam inhabited Dean’s body. A wave of affection ran through him as memories flooded his mind.

They’d been rare, those times where the hunter wouldn’t look like he carried the world on his shoulders, but Castiel had been privileged enough to witness some of them; driving the Impala on a sunny afternoon, singing to his favorite songs at the top of his lungs, laughing enough to cry after messing with his brother, moaning as he indulged in a delicious piece of pie…

As it often did, Castiel’s hand grabbed the medallion. He relished in its warmth and energy, loving how its soft vibrations reminded him of a cat’s purr.

“It’s soothing, isn’t it?” Crowley said, startling Castiel. He opened his eyes, alarmed to see the former King entering the library, a glass of amber liquid in hand.

“How did you get out?” Castiel growled as he got to his feet, ready to kick his ass back to his room.

“I let him out,” Kevin answered as he walked in with an open bottle of whisky. He took a swig from it, sitting back where he’d been before. Crowley followed to sit right next to Sam, mindful enough to leave an empty chair between him and the prophet.

Castiel squinted at Kevin and grabbed the bottle. “I believe you are underaged, Kevin,” to which the teen scoffed. “More importantly, why would you let Crowley out?”

“He had to go to the bathroom,” he said, taking the tablet to start working again. “Said he was hungry too, so we went to the kitchen.”

“It so happens I was thirsty after all,” Crowley offered after downing his glass. He made a grabby motion toward Castiel who huffed and pushed the whisky at him. “What’s with them?” he asked as he filled his glass almost to the rim, pointing his chin at Sam and the angel.

“They’re trying to talk to a guy called Bobby Singer. He’s supposed to help them get into Heaven or something,” Kevin answered, unbothered by Castiel’s warning gaze on him.

The former angel’s breath hitched when he saw Crowley start smiling. “Bobby Singer… the one that got away,” he said almost tenderly as he lifted his glass. “To Bobby,” he added before taking a sip of his drink. “You think I could ask them to say hi for me?”

Before Castiel could tell him off, Hannah appeared next to Crowley, the tip of her blade on his neck. “What is the demon doing here?” she asked while drops of blood started to drip from the cut.

“Hannah! Leave him alone, he’s harmless,” Castiel said after a beat, thrown off by the sudden shift in the room. “I told you before, he’s human now.”

“Human does not equal good, Castiel, you know that. Doesn’t matter what he’s become, he was a demon for too many centuries to not be tinted by it.”

“I’m not disputing that, Hannah. Although I am starting to wonder if you’ve forgotten about our Father’s teachings. Humans are to be loved above all else, God included. Not only this, but Crowley being cured was directly responsible for demons being sent back to Hell. Permanently.”

“It’s not like he offered himself as a sacrifice, Castiel. It wasn’t voluntary.”

“Of course, it wasn’t… doesn’t change the fact that he’s human and you mustn’t harm him.” Castiel got to his feet with nothing else but his will against the blade of the angel. “I won’t let you.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam tense up, him too ready to attack although neither of them could ever have a chance against the angel. Still, Hannah lowered her blade, making everyone in the room let out a relieved breath while Crowley brought his glass to his lips with a trembling hand.

“We talked to Bobby Singer,” Hannah said as she went back to her seat. “You were right to think he probably wouldn’t have helped me if Sam hadn’t been there to convince him.”

“Still needed to be sure I was who I said I was. Good thing Dean told me about Bobby’s little pedicure secret and his infatuation with Tori Spelling.”

While Kevin chuckled, Castiel squinted, unsure he understood what Sam was referring to. Before he could ask, the hunter waved a dismissive hand at him, smiling. “Don’t worry about it, Cas. I’ll tell you all about it later.”

For the first time since they’ve met her, a small smile appeared on Hannah’s face. Kevin’s eyes pretty much bugged out of his skull when he noticed said smile was directed at him.

“What?” he said, wary.

“I believe you still have a lot of work to do, Kevin Tran. Would you like to sleep now?”

“Hmm… maybe?”

“Then, let me help.”

The angel leaned over the table to place her fingers on Kevin’s temple. The next second, the bags under his eyes had subsided considerably.

“What the hell, lady?” Kevin sputtered.

“I healed the exhaustion from your body. Now, please translate the rest of the tablet.”


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As things start to unfold, Castiel finds it increasingly hard to be in Sam’s presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I write, I keep merging chapters together… something I once believed would have around 35 chapters now looks like it’ll be only 30 chapters long. Not that I’ve cut things down, but more like as I planned the story, I gave some scenes a lot more importance than they needed.
> 
> Which means the conclusion is right around the corner. I’m certain that, just like me, you’re eager to see Dean come back and finally interact with Castiel again… because, well, that’s what Destiel should be! And, well… both Sam and Castiel could really use going back to the way they were before. Bodies suck sometimes, with their hormones and desires and… they trick the brain, you know?
> 
> If Dean doesn’t come back soon, I’m afraid regrettable actions may occur… *dun dun dun*
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you guys will enjoy this new chapter and it seems like there’s only three left after this one! See you next Monday for #27!!! 
> 
> .

While Kevin worked, Hannah barely ever left his side. If at first Castiel believed she wanted to make sure the prophet did as she asked, it soon became evident that she had become worried Kevin would actually kill himself working.

Toward the last of it, about thirty hours after speaking to Bobby, Hannah had been healing Kevin every hour, then every thirty minutes, to end up keeping a hand on the prophet’s shoulder, letting him feed off her grace.

“Done…” Kevin said in a croak right before falling unconscious, his head hitting the table.

“Kevin!” Castiel called, alarmed.

“Don’t worry, he’s okay,” Hannah said, her body a barrier between him and the prophet. “He’s exhausted so I made sure his sleep would be a restful one.”

“Not if he doesn’t sleep in a bed,” Castiel countered, moving around the angel. “I’ll take care of him,” he said, picking up the prophet bridal style and walking out of the library.

About half way, Castiel started to regret his idea of transporting his friend. He may have been smaller, Kevin being unconscious made him a lot heavier than anticipated. He leaned on the wall to take a break, panting.

“Need help?”

Sam had just turned the corner and stood there, arms crossed and a crooked smile on his lips. At that very moment, Castiel could have believed Dean had reintegrated his body.

“If you don’t mind. I’m not as strong as I used to be,” he explained while Sam came to free him of his load.

“Maybe you should try lifting weights and stuff,” Sam said as he transported the prophet to his room. “Humans need to train to build and keep their muscles, you know? Jimmy had a nice form, you’ll wanna keep that.”

Sam tucked Kevin into bed and came back in the hall before speaking again. “I do have my own exercise regimen I could show you. Like jogging. When I get my body back—”

When Sam stopped talking, Castiel turned around to see he had also stopped walking. He just stood there, his mouth slightly agape and his gaze lost in the distance. Castiel stayed quiet and waited, understanding what conclusion the hunter might have just come to.

“I don’t have a body,” Sam eventually said, his gaze now focused on Castiel’s. “When Hannah unlocks Heaven again and we do the switch, that’s where I’ll be going, right? Heaven?”

Ignoring the inherent need to go and take his friend in his arms, Castiel stayed back and sighed. “I’m afraid that’s the case, yes. I’m sorry, I wish I could—”

“No… that’s—I get it, I swear. It’s just weird to think about, you know?”

“I know,” Castiel said softly, his mind replaying the moment he shared with Dean at that bar, waiting for the cupid to show up. Castiel had known he wouldn’t survive much longer after boarding up Heaven, that his days were numbered. They didn’t use words per se, but him and Dean said their goodbyes that night, knowing they’d never see each other again.

Until they did…

He felt the crackling of electricity run through him before Sam’s hand even landed on his shoulder. “You gotta promise me something, Cas.”

Eyes closed, Castiel swallowed and nodded.

“Dean can’t try and do that shit again once I’m up there, you hear?”

“You really think I have any type of incidence over your brother?”

“Yeah… I think you might.” 

Sam’s hand on him was firm and soft at the same time. “Sam…” he started, feeling his skin pepper with goosebumps as the medallion started vibrating on his chest.

“If he feels half of the things I feel when I’m close to you, there’s no way he’ll ever refuse you anything, Cas.”

Feeling the hunter’s breath on the shell of his ear almost made Castiel’s knees buckle. Instead, tears started streaming down his face.

“Cas? What’s wrong?”

Castiel opened his eyes to find Sam standing far away from him, which didn’t make any sense. He looked at his own shoulder where he could still feel Sam’s hand. “Did you touch me just now?” he asked, confused.

“Well, I was about to grab your shoulder, but I got this electric shock thingy. Decided it’d be better to take a step back.”

“So when you talked to me, you weren’t close?”

This time, it was Sam who looked confused. “I was standing right here. Why?”

Castiel closed his eyes again and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I felt your hand on me, Sam… I felt your breath on my ear.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

Wiping a hand over his face, Castiel let out a sad chuckle. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”

“Maybe you’re tired… you were up all night, weren’t you? Go to bed, it should help.”

Without another word, Sam moved around Castiel, brushing the wall as he did. With a trembling sigh, Castiel marched to his bedroom to let himself fall on the bed. Not bothering with his clothes, he toed off his shoes and hid his face in the pillow to cry himself to sleep.

◊—◊—◊

“The counterspell cannot be done,” Hannah announced when Castiel walked in the library after a short and restless nap.

Everyone was sitting with her in the library and they all had a dispirited expression on their faces; even Crowley looked gloomy.

“Why not?” Castiel asked as he came to sit next to Hannah. She slid Kevin’s notes toward him. When he found the counterspell, he couldn’t help a shocked gasp from passing his lips. “I—I killed the last of the nephilim. Does that mean Heaven can never open again?”

“Not unless an angel decides to procreate. And even then, we’d have to wait for it to be born.”

“Hannah, we can’t—”

“Keep reading, Castiel,” she said. “There’s a second option.”

The former angel complied, gasping once more at what he read. “I—” He choked on his tongue and took a deep breath before trying again. “I will do what needs to be done. I accept my fate.”

“What? What’s your fate?” Sam said, his gaze going back and forth between his friend and the angel. “Cas, dammit! Answer me!”

“If I die, the spell will be reverted.” He huffed, almost sounding amused by the news. “Had I know it’d be this easy, I would have killed myself already.”

Hannah shook her head, taking Castiel’s hand in hers. “You misunderstand, brother. The angel responsible for the curse, it’s not you. It’s Metatron.”

“It’s my grace that was used, Hannah. It clearly says—”

“It’s the one who cast it that needs to be sacrificed. You were merely a tool, Castiel.”

“Thought you held me responsible. Every other angel does.”

“You are no doubt guilty of helping Metatron, but he’s the one who has to perish.” She sighed, letting Castiel’s hand go. “Maybe if you still had your grace, killing you would work. But you’re human now, your death holds no power.”

“Does this mean—” Hic! “That if we kill—” Hic! “Our boy Sammy here, I can—” Hic! “Go back to heh—” Hic! “Hell?”

Everyone turned to look at Crowley. If the hiccups hadn’t been enough, his droopy eyes and flushed face told them all they needed to know about his inebriated state. He downed the last of his glass and leaned to grab the bottle on the table, only to have Sam take it away from him.

“Hey! Gimme back my—” Hic! “Booze, Moose.” Hic! “Booze Moose!” he said again, chuckling until something between a hiccup and a burp made him stop.

“I’m cutting you off,” Sam said, grabbing at Crowley’s arm to lift him off his chair. “You’re going back to your room.” He pulled the former king behind him as he left the library.

“He can’t do that, can he?” Castiel asked Hannah, a bit worried.

She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know, Castiel. I don’t meddle in Hell’s affairs.”

“Nah, he can’t,” Kevin answered with a smile. “Read the entire thing last year, and there’s nothing about a loophole for demons. Guess God didn’t think it’d be wise to have one, seeing how they’re evil and stuff.”

“You’re probably right.

Silence fell over the table. Castiel gave Hannah an expectant look, wondering what her next move would be. She seemed to understand the silent question and nodded.

“I’ll be leaving, brother. I have to start preparing for battle and take Heaven back from Metatron.”

“Do you need our help?”

“Sadly, there’s nothing more you can do. You’re human now, and the battle will no doubt take place in Heaven.” She tilted her head and seemed to mull things over before talking again. “If we find that remnants of your grace persisted, would you like me to bring it back to you? Would you want to be an angel again?”

The thought of regaining his powers made Castiel’s skin tingle, but not for long. Sam came back to the library at the same moment, still wearing his older brother’s skin and Castiel’s heart dropped in his heels. 

He shook his head, signifying his place was right where he stood.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tempers and desires escalate… time for some kind of resolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh… this one… this one’s kinda hot… well, it gets kinda hot, and then…
> 
> I don’t wanna say to much, I’ll let you read on. I don’t know about you, but this very chapter, as I wrote and reread it, it made me both eager and uncomfortable. Which I think is what some of the characters are feeling like as well.
> 
> Anyway… as I said in the last chapter’s notes, there’s not much more to go. I think I might have said three more to go last Thursday, but I was wrong, it was actually four. So, this time, for real, THREE more chapters to go before the very end and some well deserved (and real) Destiel interactions. 
> 
> 'Cause you’ve waited long enough. You’ve been so patient with me… just kinda sucks that it’s rated "M" instead of "E", huh? (It’s not about sex, people… it’s about loooooove… with a bit of M-rated sexual stuff… maybe! lol)
> 
> Okay, I’ll stop teasing and let you read. See you again next Thursday, I hope you’ll enjoy this one, and thanks for reading!
> 
>  
> 
> .

“So, who’s playing?” Kevin asked as he dropped the old Monopoly game box onto the library table, making the dust rise from the cover.

“I’m in,” the former king said between sneezes.

“I’ll play too,” Sam added as he came to sit next to Kevin, leaving Castiel to sit next to Crowley. He did so, intrigued by the prophet’s choice of game.

He took in the yellow tint of the box, wondering how old it was. It had to be at least fifty years old, still everyone in the room seemed to know what it consisted of. They’d told him it was a game about finances, and acquiring lots and properties, and everyone had kind of laughed when Castiel said he’d never bought much of anything, and certainly not a home.

“You’ll see, it’s not that hard. Has a lot to do with luck,” Sam explained, putting a blue wooden peg in front of him. “Blue, like the sky… and your eyes,” the hunter said. “It’ll represent you on the board,” he added quickly with heat in his cheeks.

“I should start,” Kevin said as he distributed cards and colorful paper money to everyone. “Cas will be able to see how it’s done before his turn comes.”

“Not fair,” Crowley intervened. “That’s not how Monopoly works, and you know it. We gotta throw the dice. I think Feathers here should catch on in a jiffy, don’t you think?”

“Whatever, Crowley,” Kevin said, rolling his eyes, then the dice. “Ten,” he announced. “Your turn, Sam.”

“Three… Crowley?”

“Bullocks! Rolled two deuces. Your turn, Castiel.”

“The dots on both dice total eleven.” He looked at Kevin. “Is that good?”

“Depends… here it means you start the game. Okay with you?”

Castiel shrugged. “As long as you tell me what to do, I don’t mind.”

If the game started amicably enough, it didn’t take long for tempers to flare. Maybe the atmosphere hadn’t been the best from the start, seeing how they’d been cooped up in the bunker since Hannah left over a week ago.

So when Crowley and Kevin started throwing the red and green wooden buildings at each other, Sam decided it was time to declare the game over.

“We’re not even done!” Crowley whined as he received one last hotel in the eye. “You little shit! You could have blinded me!”

He tried to get up, but Castiel didn’t let him, his hand heavy on the former demon’s shoulder.

“Settle down, Crowley,” he said, then got closer to his ear to whisper: “Losing an eye would be nothing compared to what you did to his mother. Count your blessings…”

The fight left Crowley’s body almost immediately. When he turned to look at Castiel, the former angel was surprised to read shame on his face. He didn’t say a word, his lower lip quivering, before nodding.

“I—I need to go,” Crowley eventually said, keeping his gaze down.

Understanding, Castiel nodded. He kept an eye on him as he walked out, still a bit worried he’d try to attack the prophet. When he didn’t, Castiel let out a relieved breath and started helping Sam clean up the table.

“What did you tell him?” he heard Kevin say from the floor where he was picking up pieces of the game.

“Told him he wouldn’t get anymore alcohol if he didn’t leave you alone.” He ignored the guilt his answer prompted, even managing to give his young friend a reassuring smile when he stood back up.

“He hasn’t been drinking as much. Did you notice?” the prophet asked as he put the cover on the box. “But yeah, I doubt he’d wanna stop altogether.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Satisfied, Kevin left the room to bring the game back in the storage room. Sam came to sit next to Castiel and leaned in, speaking under his breath.

“What did you really tell Crowley?” he asked, keeping an eye on the doorway.

“Told him to let it go on the account of killing Kevin’s mother.”

Sam nodded, but didn’t move away. Thankfully, he wasn’t close enough so Dean would go berserk in his medallion. It was Castiel who had a hard time handling the proximity of their bodies.

“Sam?”

“Yeah?”

The hunter’s voice was breathy, hoarse.

“Never thought I’d ever be the one to say this, but… personal space?”

Sam lifted his eyes to meet Castiel’s, looking all sorts of pitiful. “What if you took the medallion off?” he asked before licking his lips, his eyes dropping to Castiel’s mouth. “Just for a minute… I’d love to just… hug you, you know? Maybe kiss you a little? Just to see…”

Castiel’s voice didn’t sound any better than Sam’s when he spoke. “Sam… nothing you’re feeling is real. You know that, don’t you?”

“I do… doesn’t change the fact that those feelings are there, even if they aren’t mine. Maybe getting close will settle my nerves, calm the urges. We don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to… just… hug or something.”

Although tempted by Sam’s proposition, Castiel needed a minute to think about it. Hugging his friend shouldn’t be something he’d have to think about, it should be normal. Except Sam had also expressed the desire to kiss him. He let his eyes wander over Dean’s tempting lips, hating to think now could be the only time he’d be allowed to taste them. Except it wouldn’t be right, Dean himself would never desire this. Not that he’d know…

With a deep sigh, he met Sam’s eyes again, then lifted his hands to start working the clasp on the back of his neck. _Nothing but a hug_ , he promised himself, his heart threatening to beat its way out of his chest.

Castiel’s phone rang at that very moment, startling him in aborting the movement. He took a deep breath before looking at the screen on his device.

“Hannah,” he announced, lowering his arms. He answered by putting the phone on speaker, ignoring the deception in the hunter’s eyes as well as his own.

“Hello, Hannah. Sam too is here, you’re on speaker.”

“Hello, Castiel. Sam.” She paused, making Castiel wonder what she could be waiting for.

“Huh… hello, Hannah,” Sam eventually said, as if coming out of a trance.

“I have news. Good news,” she said. “Metatron has been defeated and Heaven’s doors have been unlocked. I would have preferred to have the scribe spend eternity in jail, but this will have to do.”

“I’m glad, Hannah.”

“Your friend Bobby was of great help. He sends his regards.”

Castiel met Sam’s eyes again and smiled. The hunter smiled back at him, the tension from before seemingly forgotten. Maybe it had to do with Sam now sitting further away.

“Brother, I know you made your mind already, but I feel the need to confirm your grace is non-existent. Even if you wanted to change your mind, you can’t.”

“I suspected as much,” Castiel said, the validation of his humanness sending shivers down his spine.

“Now, Sam… I know you are expecting to ascend to Heaven when Dean reintegrates his body, but you don’t have to. If you know where your body was buried, I could mend it so you could keep living. What do you choose?”

Before Sam could answer, Crowley walked back in the room. “If Sam doesn’t get a body, I’m not breaking the spell.”

“Not your decision to make,” Sam said.

“Indeed, it’s not… go to Heaven, see if I care. But if you do, I get to keep the medallion with Dean’s soul in it.”

“That’s out of the question!” Castiel warned, laying a protective hand over the medallion. “It doesn’t matter what Sam decides, you’re breaking the spell so Dean can get his body back. Don’t think I won’t make you.”

“You humans and your dramatic antics. I have work to do, so I need a decision. Now, Sam Winchester!”

“Come on, Moose. You get another chance at life, just take it. Plus, I really don’t wanna be responsible for you still being dead when Dean comes back. He’ll no doubt decide to kill me.”

Sam turned to Cas. “Crowley’s not wrong, you know. I do get a second chance… well… a tenth chance is more likely.” He grinned, looking down at his borrowed body. “I’d be willing to keep on living, but I don’t know where my body is.”

“You haven’t searched for it?” Hannah said. “I know I did, but couldn’t find it. If I’m not mistaken, you and your brother were branded against angels.”

Castiel groaned. “Indeed… I branded their ribs some years ago. Sadly, Dean never told me what he did with Sam’s body, I have no idea where it could be.”

“I don’t either,” Sam said.

“I do.”

Sam and Castiel turned to scowl at Crowley.

“Why didn’t you say that when we were talking about it six days ago?” Sam said, his hands bunched in tight fists on either side of his body.

Sporting a smug smile, the former King came to sit at the table. “I know where Dean buried you, but I wanted to secure one last favor before I tell you.”

“No need to deal us getting rid of you, Crowley, it’s a given. The sooner you go, the happier—”

“Not that, you sodding giant!” Crowley said, cutting Sam off. “The jewel; I want to wear it. From now until I get to do the ritual.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s nothing standing in the way to get Dean back anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is… Destiel…
> 
> Well, not as much as in the next two chapters, but there’s still a true hint of it in this one.
> 
> And since I love my Destiel slow and brooding and angsty, you probably can expect as much. And, again, it’s not "Explicit", so you can’t expect super smutty stuff.
> 
> Just realized the last chapter of this story will be published on the same night as the season finale. It’s like I don’t want people to read my shit! Who knows… I may to do like Supernatural and have the last two "episodes" on the same day. Huh… I’m kinda liking this idea a whole lot, actually.
> 
> Still, I won’t promise it’ll happen, just to give myself an out if I run into a snag. But I’ll do my very best to be able to do this.
> 
>  
> 
> See you next Monday for the next chapter… and maybe the last one as well!! Thanks for reading!!
> 
>  
> 
> .

Crowley wearing Dean’s soul around his neck again came with a price, one he didn’t seem to mind paying. Knowing the former king could very well decide to run away with the jewel, Sam had insisted that his arms and legs be shackled until it was time to do the ritual.

As they headed for Lawrence – how did Sam did not even think his body could be there? – Crowley napped in the backseat, his bound hands tight on the medallion and a soft smile on his lips. Castiel drove slowly through the trails of Riverfront Park, until he couldn’t go further and had to stop.

“We’ll have to walk the rest of the way.”

“I can’t imagine Dean coming this far with the Impala, only to trek through the woods hauling my body over his shoulder,” Sam muttered. He motioned to the thick woods and ferns surrounding the car. “You sure we’re in the right place, Crowley?”

Startled, the former king awoke with an inelegant snort. The hunters gave him a moment to wake up, looking at him expectantly. “We there yet?” he mumbled between yawns.

“Looks fishy that I’d be buried so far out. Are you sure we’re you gave us the right numbers?”

With a huff, Crowley canted and twisted his hips up. “My coat pocket, take my phone. Five, eight, five, four, three, height. Dean texted me the coordinates, see for yourself.”

His lips pursed, Sam complied, finding the phone and thumbing the code on the locked screen. Castiel grew impatient when it took Sam a little too long to find the appropriate text; he didn’t want to think how Crowley may have been telling the truth when he said him and Dean had been communicating a lot.

“Found it… same numbers he gave us,” Sam said, showing Castiel the phone. “Better start walking, then.”

It took about half an hour to get to the exact coordinates. In the middle of a small clearing, they found Hannah standing next to Sam’s unearthed body. Castiel sent Sam a questioning look.

“I prayed the location to her, saying we were almost there,” he explained, pulling on Crowley by his chain so he’d stop shuffling his feet.

“Hey, watch it, Jolly Green,” the shorter man groused, almost falling on his face as he trotted behind Sam. He held the medallion as if his life depended on it and Castiel couldn’t wait for this whole disaster to be over.

The three men came to stand near the body and the angel. Sam tried to speak, his eyes glued to the shrouded form. “Am I—is my body—”

“Your body has been repaired, yes. It is ready to be reintegrated.” Hannah turned to Crowley, her eyes squinted as if painful to even have to look at him. “Will this spell take long?”

The former demon huffed and shrugged, sending a pointed look at Castiel. “It might take longer than it should if I can’t move freely,” he quipped, making his chains rattle.

Before Castiel could come and free him, Hannah made the cuffs disappear with a snap of her fingers. “Thanks, love,” he said, letting go of the necklace to rub his wrists and shake his legs, but only for a second. Like magnets, his hands climbed right back up to hold onto the medallion. “The bag,” he told Castiel, pointing his chin at the duffel the former angel had been carrying.

Ignoring Castiel’s attempt to make him take it, Crowley went to stand next to Sam’s empty vessel. “Moose, if you wouldn’t mind lying next to yourself.”

After giving Castiel a worried look, Sam complied and went to lie down between his body and Hannah. He caught her gaze on him and let out a nervous giggle. “You’re sure that’s me under there, right?” he asked, only half serious. “Wouldn’t wanna be put in some random corpse.”

She rolled her eyes, but still nodded as Castiel dropped the bag in front of Crowley. The ex-demon crouched to start going through it while Castiel kept his eyes on Sam… or on Dean, rather. Since Sam had closed his eyes, it made it easier for Castiel to imagine it was actually the older Winchester lying there.

He thought back to the previous day, when he’d almost taken the necklace off so he and Sam could hug. His heart skipped a beat at the thought that they might not have been able to resist kissing. If that had happened, he probably wouldn’t have been able to look Dean in the eye ever again.

“I can’t wait for those feelings to be gone,” Sam said, making Castiel realise the hunter didn’t have his eyes closed anymore. “Gone for me, anyway… I’m sure Dean will—”

“Sam, please don’t speak of this to Dean… not ever.”

“But, Cas… he—”

“Whatever this is,” Castiel said, waving a hand between them. “Whatever this is, it probably has to do with the displacement of souls. Everything will be back as it was, so just let it go.”

“You both are idiots,” Crowley said as he set the medallion over Sam’s chest. “Dean has some strong feelings for you, Feathers. At least that’s what I understood when I kind of tried to seduce him,” he added when Castiel gasped in shock. “Not saying he’d be down for a shag, but he does like you very much, there’s no doubt about that.”

“Huh… didn’t think you were gay,” Sam said, glossing over Crowley’s assessment of Dean’s feelings. The former king chuckled.

“Moose, when you’ve been around as long as I have, there’s no such thing as being gay, or straight, or whatever else label there is. I like what I like when I like it, that’s all. Now shut your gob and close your eyes, I’m ready.” He turned to Castiel, offering him a thin smile. “You’re no angel anymore, better close them too.”  

Castiel complied as Crowley started the ritual. He heard the flick of a lighter, then came the stench of sulfur while the former demon spoke some kind of incantation in ancient Sumerian. Soon, the words ended and Castiel almost opened his eyes. When he felt a dull vibration in the ground beneath his feet, he scrunched his eyes harder, certain of what was to come.

When the light came, his human eyelids weren’t enough to keep its harshness at bay. Castiel hid his face in the crook of his elbow, his ears popping from the increasing vibrations. Then it all stopped, silence falling like a cloak over the clearing.

“Cas?”

Castiel opened his eyes to find himself now alone with the brothers. He looked down where green eyes were looking back at him.

“Sam?” he asked, kneeling next to his friend.

“It’s me, Cas… Dean. What’s goin’ on?” As he spoke, Dean sat up and glanced to his side. The sight of the shrouded form, unmoving, brought tears to his eyes. “What the fuck did you do, Cas?” the hunter asked. To anyone else, the hunter would have sounded angry, but what Castiel heard was desperation.

“I—we—Sam chose to live,” Castiel said in a stammer, starting to worry something had gone wrong. The sentiment didn’t last long as Sam jerked awake, his hands trying to pry the sheet away from his face as he struggled to breathe.

“Sam?” Dean asked as he tried to help pull the fabric off of his brother, the tears he’d been holding spilling onto his cheeks. Sam turned to scowl at Dean, colors not yet having returned to his ashen skin.

“You fucking jerk,” he said under his breath before wrapping his arms around Dean. “If you ever pull shit like this again, I’m letting you spend eternity around Crowley’s neck.”

“Shut up, bitch! You’re alive, it was worth it.”

He may have been holding his brother tight, Sam still sounded pissed when he pushed himself away to look him in the eye. “You gotta stop doing this, Dean.”

“I could have let it go if you’d been in Heaven, Sam, but you were in Hell. You didn’t deserve that again, not after all you’ve done for this world.” He turned to Castiel, awe in his eyes rather than the pain from earlier. “I don’t know how you did it, Cas, but thank you. You brought my kid brother back to me.”

“It wasn’t all me.” Castiel looked up to see the sky turning a dusty shade of pink. “We should go back to the car before night falls.” He looked back at Dean and smiled. “We’ll tell you all about what happened on the way back.”

Dean, who had gotten to his feet, took Castiel in his arms. They hugged for a little while, Castiel trying his best not to appear too eager as he hugged him back. He bristled when Dean’s hand cupped the back of his neck, caressing the skin as he moved away.

“Where’s Crowley?” they heard Sam ask. “Did Hannah kill him or something?”

“Saw him disappear in the woods. He ran that way,” Castiel said as he came to grab the duffel Sam had just zipped up. He was about to start walking when Sam too came to hug him, taking advantage of their closeness to speak low in his ear.

“Been wanting to do this for a while. And, don’t worry, I have no more inappropriate thoughts,” he said, letting him go with a friendly clap on the back.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things need to get back to normal… can they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t promise it, yet I’m able to do it… this is the first of the last two chapters I’m be publishing today.
> 
> Like our beloved show’s season 12 finale, you get two episodes for the price of one…
> 
> And speaking of finale, I’m in distress right now, scared as all hell about what waiting for us.
> 
> But you know what? MY story has a GOOD ending, a HAPPY ending!!!! Next chapter to come very very soon!
> 
> .

The first stop Dean insisted they make was Jody’s, in Sioux Falls. He gave his friend and brother a hard time about leaving his Baby to sit alone for so long. Until Sam had enough and reminded him how he himself left her to sit in a random parking lot. Out of arguments, Dean chose to pout, not saying another word about it.

“Dean Winchester, I could kill you, you know?” the teary-eyed sheriff said when the men showed up on her doorstep. She grabbed him in a hug before slapping him behind the head, doing the same with Sam because he hadn’t been keeping in touch after saying he would. Only Castiel was lucky enough to not get slapped when she hugged him before inviting them into her house.

After listening to Sam relate what had been happening since they last saw each other, Jody turned to Dean, expecting him to start explaining himself.

“What can I say, Jody… had to get my brother back,” Dean said with a semi-apologetic shrug. They locked eyes for a moment, until the sheriff huffed and shook her head. She knew there probably wasn’t any other reason to do what he did. 

The heavy silence that wrapped around them was enough for Sam to suggest they go back home. Dean almost threw another fit when Sam insisted that Dean and Cas drove the Impala back together while he took the Continental, insisting he had to make a stop in Wichita. 

“And, well, after riding your meat suit, I kinda feel the need to reconnect with myself,” he explained. Having to go and get Linda’s body hadn’t seemed enough of a reason for Dean. Finally convinced, Dean couldn’t stop himself from making some sort of salacious comment about “Sam getting to know his own body again.”

◊—◊—◊

As they drove toward Lebanon, Castiel had many questions for Dean, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask them. Dean must have sensed his hesitations because about half way to the bunker, he sighed and ejected the tape he’d been playing.

“Better say whatever it is you wanna say. The gloom’s killing me, man!”

Castiel swallowed with a click and nodded. “Why did you do it?”

“You know why.”

“But… Crowley? You had to know he’d try and trick you. If we hadn’t found you—”

Dean shrugged. “I really didn’t care at the time. Not as long as Sam got some kind of life back, you know?”

If Castiel’s eyes were on the hunter when he spoke, Dean kept his on gaze obstinately forward, his jaw set tight.

“Was it worth it? Being stuck in cheap jewelry and hanging around Crowley’s neck?”

“I didn’t notice, to be honest. Sure beats being downstairs.” Dean cleared his throat. “I kinda noticed some kind of change, though. Not that I was conscious or anything, not sure I can explain it, but… I wasn’t always around Crowley’s neck, was I?”

“No, you weren’t. I ended up wearing the medallion.”

“Not Sam?”

“I think your soul recognized its body when he tried, making it restless. You only calmed down when I held you.”

“Makes sense, I guess. You did handle my soul before.”

It took Castiel letting out a sad chuckle for Dean to finally glance at his friend, if only for half a second. “What?”

“My grace handled your soul, Dean. I’m graceless now.”

“So?”

Castiel didn’t answer. He didn’t want to have to put answers in Dean’s mind. It didn’t matter that Sam had been convinced Dean had feelings for him, or that Crowley confirmed it. As long as Dean refused to acknowledge anything special between the both of them, Castiel couldn’t just go and say there was. 

He took a random tape from the box at his feet to shove it in the cassette player and press play. Led Zeppelin’s [Since I’ve Been Loving You](https://youtu.be/w4THXeOD-Dw)  filled the empty space between them, making Castiel smile. He remembered hearing this song before, when Dean had asked him to lie beside him and held him tight. Like that night, goosebumps peppered his skin the moment he heard the first notes.

Dean ejected the tape before words were even sung; he wasn’t done talking.

“What do you mean, Cas? No more special bond ‘cause you’re human now, is that it?”

“Not all all. We’ll always have a special bond, Dean. I raised your from—”

“From perdition, yeah, I know…” He sighed, looking at Castiel once more, a little bit longer this time. “Guess we can’t get rid of each other, can we?”

Castiel’s left hand hitched for something. Maybe he wanted to put the music back on, maybe he wanted to hold Dean’s hand – he couldn’t tell. “Is that what you want? That we go our separate ways?”

“Of course not. You’re family, buddy… you know this, right?”

As sole response, Castiel could only shrug, looking in the distance as he his eyes started to sting. Whatever hope he’d had before had just been crushed, again. Dean called him buddy, and he very well know what a buddy consisted of.

A friend. A pal. A comrade. A—

The Impala coming to a stop in a deserted rest area halted Castiel’s mental enumeration. Instead of getting out the car to maybe go relieve himself, Dean turned to face Castiel. The former angel sighed and looked back at him, mirroring his position.

They held each other’s gaze for what felt like a long time. Castiel wanted to ask what was wrong, but his throat and mouth were too dry to even try.

“I thought I was going back downstairs, you know,” Dean eventually said, his eyes shifting to look down at his own hands. “Or in the veil… whatever was to happen, I thought I’d be dead.”

“You had to know Sam or even myself would try to get you back. Do you not know us at all?”

“Sam’s more—he’s more intelligent than me. He would have gotten over it and lived his life, without me to rope him up back in this shitty life.”

Dean looked up at Castiel again, his eyes shiny and his lower lip quivering. “He deserves so much better… like you, Cas… you deserve the best out of this life.”

“I usually hate when you put yourself down like this, Dean, but I have to agree this time. You’re extremely stupid!”

Castiel’s sudden anger made Dean’s sullen expression waver. He looked about to fight back, and then his mouth curled up in a crooked smile. 

“Yeah, I am,” he said, making Castiel want to grab him by his denim coat and shake him.

“No, you’re not, you idiot,” Castiel countered, making the hunter laugh out loud this time.

“Look, I thought I should explain why I—you know, the night before—when I left.”

His heart racing, Castiel tried to school his features. He had wondered about that himself, stupidly convincing himself that lying in bed together had meant something…

“I keep saying you’re family, but it’s not entirely true. Well, it is—it’s just—not like Sam, you know?” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, averting Castiel’s eye when he spoke again. “Doesn’t matter how much I wanna believe you’re like a brother to me, there’s still this—this need. Like—I kinda want you close, you know? I get these—it’s like an itch a gotta scratch… have for a long time.”

Castiel nodded when Dean’s eyes caught onto his again. A spark ignited between their fingers when Dean grabbed the former angel’s hand. It was enough to make Castiel confident enough to speak again.

“Is this something you’d be willing to revisit? Us getting close?” he asked, relishing in the low hum where their skin connected.

“I honestly don’t know. Not that it wasn’t nice, but I’m not sure I understand what it all means. Like… my heart’s going a thousand miles an hour, I wanna be holding you, my skin’s tingly, but… does it mean I wanna be with you? Like, that we gotta have sex?”

“Do you want to have sex?” Not until the words passed his lips did Castiel realize it sounded like an invitation. And if his gaping mouth was anything to go by, Dean had taken it that way too.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t propositioning you. It came out wrong.”

“No… that’s—is that something you want?”

The panic in Dean’s eyes was overwhelming, so Cas could only smile and shake his head. “Don’t worry about it. Let’s just go back home, all right?” he said, untangling his fingers from the hunter’s.

_ Family’s better than nothing at all _ , Castiel thought, hiding a wayward tear by looking out the passenger window.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are words… and then, there are words!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is… the last chapter. I might have liked to go further, write a bit about what comes next, except I kinda feel like I’m done telling them what to do. It this very story, anyway.
> 
> I do have to concentrate on my other projects, one of them being the Team Free Will Big Bang… no DCBB this year, only because I couldn’t write both at once.
> 
> So, this story is done, I really hope you like the way it ends.
> 
> Please don’t hesitate to share your thoughts with me, it’s always appreciated. Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you again for my next story!

Kevin threw the lighter on the pyre a little before dawn. Sam, Dean, and Castiel watched as the flames engulfed Linda Tran’s shrouded body, the fabric fluttering as it turned black.

Never did the prophet look away, not until the flames started dwindling. He wiped the tears on his face and turned his back to the pile of embers.

“I don’t hold any of you responsible for what happened to my mom, even though—” he started, his cold gaze travelling between the three men. “I don’t care that he’s human now; if I ever see Crowley again, I’m killing him. None of you will be able to stop me, and if you try, I’ll kill you too.”

The prophet didn’t wait for any of them to answer and started walking back to the bunker. Sam decided to follow him, holding up a hand so Dean and Castiel would stay put. They complied, turning back around to face the funeral pyre.

“Linda was a great lady,” Dean said after some time, keeping his eyes forward whereas Castiel turned to look at him.

“She hated me,” Castiel replied, matter-of-factly.

“She hated angels, and I’m pretty sure she hated us too. That’s what mother’s do.” The thin smile on Dean’s face never reached his eyes. “Still, she didn’t deserve to go out like this.”

Castiel didn’t feel the need to add anything. Of course she didn’t deserve this, no one ever did. Like Kevin didn’t deserve losing everyone he’d ever loved. Like Dean and Sam didn’t deserve to be the universe’s puppets.

It took another hour of silence for Dean to flatten a hand between Castiel’s shoulder blades to lead him back toward the bunker. They went in, Castiel letting Dean steer him where he wanted him to go. They didn’t stop to speak to Sam, busy doing whatever on his computer while Kevin was nowhere to be seen.

Dean’s hand left Castiel’s back only when they entered the hunter’s bedroom and the door shut behind them. Dean went to sit sideways on his bed, patting the mattress so Castiel would join him. He dropped his trenchcoat – the only piece of Jimmy’s clothing he refused to part with – on the chair and came to sit with his friend.

Once more, both men kept silent for some time, Castiel’s nerves buzzing even though they weren’t close enough to touch.

“Sam told me he wants to go back to school,” Dean announced after clearing his throat.

“Yes, he told me as much,” Castiel said, trying to figure out how the hunter was taking the news. His demeanor didn’t let much transpire, would it be positive or negative.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” He finally turned to Castiel, locking their eyes together. “I mean… now that the angels are back upstairs, are they gonna try and start up that Apocalypse shit again?”

“I highly doubt it. I’m confident that angels will keep to themselves for a while.”

“It’s about fucking time, if you ask me.”

Castiel hadn’t asked, of course, but he did agree with Dean. The proximity getting to much to handle, Castiel got off the bed to start pacing. He couldn’t help but wonder what would happen of him if Sam moved away. Would Dean go back to live on the road, leaving the bunker behind? And if he did, what did that mean for Castiel? He highly doubted that Dean would want him to follow.

As if he could read his mind, Dean came to stand in his way, stopping him in his stride.

“What about you? Got some idea of what you wanna do now that you’re a real boy?”

“I’ve been doing it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s the best thing you could ever do; spend your time cooped up in a car with an alcoholic hunter.”

Castiel shrugged, trying to ignore how it’d be easy to take one step forward so his and Dean’s body could touch. He took a step backward instead. “What else is there to do?”

“Dunno… living your own life, finding a job, having a family… you know, normal human things.”

“I was led to believe I already had a family,” Castiel said, not ready to look the hunter in the eye just yet. “Is it—are you—I understand if you changed your mind about this.”

“Of course not, Cas… that’s never changing. What I meant was… you could decide to get a wife and kids. You know, start a family of your own.”

This time, Castiel looked up, needing Dean to see the truth in his eyes. “The family I have now is the only one I want, Dean. And I have no desire to reproduce. But if you feel that I should leave and find my own way, then I will do so. I don’t wish to be a burden.”

When Dean took a step forward, it felt like all the oxygen left Castiel’s lungs. “You’re not a burden, Cas, all right? If you wanna be a hunter, then stick with me. I’ll make you the best hunter out there.”

“The third best?”

“Yeah, all right… the third best,” Dean said with a low chuckle. “But if at any time you wanna—”

“Unless you push me away, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why not?”

Feeling bold, Castiel let himself lean closer, his eyes never leaving Dean’s. “You know why,” he only said, grabbing a hold of the hunter’s coat sleeve. He had wanted to grab his hand, but changed his mind last minute. “Don’t worry… I will not pressure you into—”

Dean’s warm lips on Castiel’s were efficient in cutting him off, the last word ending in a soft squeak. The hunter didn’t press hard, nor for long, and when he leaned back he didn’t avert the ex-angel’s eyes.

“Look… I’m—I can’t promise anything,” Dean said. “I just know that… this feels right, you know?”

His heart in his throat, Castiel could only nod.

“Whatever this thing is, you think we can just… play it by ear? Take it slow?”

Castiel swallowed, tired of being scared. “It’s not like I have any sort of expectations.” He dared wrapping a warm hand on the back of Dean’s neck, his thumb stroking the soft skin below his ear. He almost took his hand off when he felt the hunter bristle, except the warmth in the green eyes convinced him to leave it there. 

“I don’t think I’m in a position to make any sort of demands, but… if we’re on a hunt and you feel the urge to bring a girl back to the room, I would prefer that you didn’t. Not saying you should censor your desires on my account, but I’d rather not be in the front row when it happens.”

If Castiel had expected Dean to just scoff at him, he certainly didn’t expect to be kissed again, this time a little more deeply. 

“I was a real asshole to you, wasn’t I?” Dean responded after letting his mouth go and leaning their foreheads together. “I’m sorry, Cas… I can only imagine if I had done this to Sam and I swear, he would have had my ass for breakfast! I’m not doing this to you ever again, I swear.”

“Or at least… let me know in advance so I can get my own room?”

When Dean leaned back, he looked confused enough to make Castiel just as uneasy. “What?”

“Dude, I’m not gonna go out and find some drunk girl to fuck. What do you take me for?”

“But… it’s what you do, isn’t it?”

“You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?”

“Say what?”

Dean’s frown deepened, his eyes boring into Castiel’s. 

“Cas… I thought we were on the same page here. I—I thought we had just agreed to—ugh—be together, you know?” As Castiel’s confusion didn’t ease, Dean harrumphed, cradling the ex-angel’s face with both his hands. “I’m saying I’d like us to try being together.”

“You also said you couldn’t promise anything.”

“Damnit! I can’t promise it’ll work out, but… while we’re trying, there’ll be no one else but—”

It was Castiel’s turn to interrupt Dean by pulling him forward with a hand on the back of his head. His fingers tangled in the hunter’s hair – Sam hadn’t bothered keeping it short – Castiel licked and nipped delicately at Dean’s mouth. Dean leaned back again, caressing the stubble on Castiel’s jaw with his thumbs.

“I–I love you,” Castiel said under his breath. He hated having sounded hesitant, but he knew the truth shone in his eyes, making sure to catch Dean’s gaze with his.

And although he didn’t speak, Castiel felt his words being reciprocated in the trembling of Dean’s hands on his skin and the liquid stars in his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and please, don’t hesitate to leave your comments or questions, here or on my [Tumblr](http://marmeladyorange.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Hope to see you again next week!


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